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MOUNT EVEREST 



MOUNT EVEREST 

THE RECONNAISSANCE, 1921 



By 
Lieut.-Gol. G. K. HOWARD-BURY, D.S.O. 

AND OTHER MEMBERS OF THE 
MOUNT EVEREST EXPEDITION 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS 



LONGMANS, GREEN AND GO. 

55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 

LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD & CO. 
1922 



PREFACE 

The Mount Everest Committee of the Royal Geographical 
Society and the Alpine Club desire to express their thanks 
to Colonel Howard-Bury, Mr. Wollaston, Mr. Mallory, Major 
Morshead, Major Wheeler and Dr. Heron for the trouble 
they have taken to write so soon after their return an account 
of their several parts in the joint work of the Expedition. 
They have thereby enabled the present Expedition to start 
with full knowledge of the results of the reconnaissance, 
and the public to follow the progress of the attempt to reach 
the summit with full information at hand. 

The Committee also wish to take this opportunity of 
thanking the Imperial Dry Plate Company for having gener- 
ously presented photographic plates to the Expedition and 
so contributed to the production of the excellent photographs 
that have been brought back. 

They also desire to thank the Peninsular and Oriental 
Steam Navigation Company for their liberality in allowing 
the members to travel at reduced fares ; and the Government 
of India for allowing the stores and equipment of the 
Expedition to enter India free of duty. 

A. R HiNKrW- «««<«"«• 



CONTENTS 

PAGK 

iNTKODxroTiON. By Sir Francis Younghtjsband, K.C.S.I., K.C.I.E., 

President of the Royal Geographical Society. ... 1 

THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 
By Lieut. -Col. C. K. HowAED-BiTRy, D.S.O. 

OHAP. 

I Feom Daejeeling throxtgh Sikkim ..... 23 

II The Chumbi Valley and the Tibetan Plateau . . 37 

III From Khamba Dzong through Unknown Country to 

Tingri 65 

IV Tingri and the Country to the South .... 71 
V The Search for Kharta 86 

VI The Move to Kharta 98 

VII The Kama Valley . .112 

Vin The Upper Kharta Valley and the 20,000-foot Camp . 130 

IX The Return to Kharta by the Kama Valley . . . 146 

X The Return Journey to Phari 156 

XI Back to Cwilisation 170 

THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 
By George H. Leigh-Malloey 

XII The Northern Approach 183 

XIII The Northern Approach (continued) . . ' . . 203 

XIV The Eastern Approach 221 

XV The Assault 250 

XVI Weather and Condition of Snow 262 

XVn The Route to the Summit 273 

vii 



viii CONTENTS 

NATURAL HISTORY 
By A. F. R. WoLLASTON 

C!HAP. PAGE 

XVin An Excursion to Nyenyam and Lapche Kang . 281 
XIX Nattjkal History Notes 290 



XX An Appreciation of the Reconnaissance. By Professor 

Norman Collie, F.R.S., President of the Alpine Club . 304 



APPENDICES 
I The Survey. By Major H. T. Morshead, D.S.O. . . 319 
II The Photographic Survey. By Major E. 0. Wheeler, M.C. 329 

III A Note on the Geological Results of the Expedition. 

By A. M. Heron, D.Sc., F.G.S., Geological Survey of 
India 338 

IV The Scientific Equipment. By A. R. Hinks, F.R.S., 

Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society . . . 341 

V Mammals, Birds and Plants collected by the Expedition. 

By A. F. R. WoLLASTON 344 

Index .......... 351 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



PACING 
PAOB 



The Summit . Frontispiece 

Chomolhari from the South ........ 46 

Loading up at Dochen ......... 50 

Kampa Dzong .......... 54 

Tinki Dzong 58 

Gyangka Range from near Chushar ...... 62 

Shekar Dzong .......... 66 

The Abbot of Shekar Chote 68 

Military Governor, his Wife and Mother 100 

The Dzongpen of Kharta and his Wife ...... 106 

Lamas of Kharta Monastery . . . . . . . .110 

Makalu from 21,500-foot peak on ridge south of Kama-chu. . . 112 

Makalu and Chomolonzo . . . . . . . .114 

Cliffs of Chomolonzo from camp at Pethang Ringmo . . .116 

The Kama Valley 118 

Sea of cloud from peak north of Kama Valley. Kangchenjunga in 

distance ........... 138 

Chomolonzo from the alp below the Langma La, Kama Valley . 150 

Members of the Expedition ........ 178 

Cho-Uyo 190 

Summit, of Mount Everest and North Peak from the Island, West 

Rongbuk Glacier . 210 

Mount Everest from the Rongbuk Glacier, nine miles north-west. . 214 

S umm it, of Mount Everest and South Peak from the Island, West 

Rongbuk Glacier ......... 218 

Pethang-tse 222 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



TAG Of Q 
PAGE 



Summit of Makalu 226 

South-east Ridge of Mount Everest from above the 20,000-foot camp, 

Kharta VaUey 230 

North-east of Mount Everest and Chang La from Lhakpa La. . 246 

Mount Everest from the 20,000-foot camp — wind blowiag snow off the 

mountain .......... 278 

Temple at Lapche Kang ........ 286 

Gauri-Sankar 288 

Lower Kama-chu .......... 290 

Junipers in the Kama Valley ....... 294 

Forest in the Kama Valley ........ 300 

Moimt Everest at sunset from the 20,000-foot camp, Kharta Valley . 316 



LIST OF MAPS 

I Map to illustrate the route of the Mount Everest Expedition. 

Scale 1/750,000 At end 

II Map of Mount Everest. Scale 1/100,000 ... „ 

III Geological Map of the Mount Everest Region . . „ 



INTRODUCTION 

By Sir FEANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND, K.C.S.I., K.C.I.E. 

The idea of climbing Mount Everest has been vaguely 
in men's mind for thirty or forty years past. Certainly 
that veteran mountain-climber and mountain-lover, Douglas 
Freshfield, had it persistently rising within him as he broke 
away from the Swiss Alps and subdued the giants of the 
Caucasus and then sought stiU higher peaks to conquer. 
Lord Curzon also had had it in his mind, and when Viceroy 
of India had written suggesting that the Royal Geographical 
Society and the Alpine Club should make a joint explora- 
tion of the mountain. Bruce, Longstaff and Mumm would 
have made this exploration in 1905 if the permission of the 
Nepalese and Tibetan Governments had been available. 
So also would Rawhng a few years later. All these, and 
doubtless others, had contemplated at least a preliminary 
reconnaissance of Mount Everest. 

But, so far as I know, the first man to propose a definite 
expedition to Mount Everest was the then Captain Bruce, 
who, when he and I were together in Chitral in 1893, 
proposed to me that we should make a glorious termination 
to a journey from Chinese Turkestan across Tibet by 
ascending Mount Everest. And it is Bruce who has held 
to the idea ever since and sought any opportunity that 
offered of getting at the mountain. 

It stands to reason that men with any zest for moun- 

M.E, J B 



2 MOUNT EVEREST 

taineering could not possibly aUow Mount Everest to remain 
untouched. The time, the opportunity, the money, the 
ability to make the necessary preliminary preparation 
might be lacking, but the wish and the wiU to stand on 
the summit of the world's highest mountain must have been 
in the heart of many a mountaineer since the Alps have 
been so firmly trampled under foot. The higher chmbers 
chmb, the higher they want to climb. It is certain that 
they will never rest content till the proudest peaks of the 
Himalaya are as subdued and tamed as the once dreaded 
summits of the Alps now are. 

Men simply cannot resist exercising and stretching to 
their fullest tether the faculties and aptitudes with which 
they each happen to be specially endowed. One born with 
an aptitude for painting is dull and morose and fidgety until 
he can get colours and a brush into his hand and commence 
painting. Another is itching to make things — to use his 
hands and fashion wood or stone or metal into forms which 
he is continually creating in his mind. Another is restless 
until he can sing. Another is ever pining to be on a public 
platform swaying the audience with his oratory and playing 
on their feelings as on a musical instrument. Each has 
his own inner aptitude which he aches to give vent to and 
bring into play. And more than this, he secretly owns 
within himself an exceedingly high standard — the highest 
standard — of what he wants to attain to along his own 
particular line, and he is never really content in his mind 
and at peace with himself when he is not stretching himself 
out to the fuU towards this high pinnacle which he has set 
before him. 

Now fortunately all men are not born with the same 
aptitudes. We do not all want to sing or all want to orate 
or aU want to paint. Some few want to climb mountains. 
These men love to pit themselves against what most 
others would consider an insuperable obstacle. They enjoy 
measuring themselves against it and being forced to exercise 
aU their energies and faculties to overcome it. The Duke 



THE INTRODUCTION 3 

of the Abruzzi is as good an example of this type as I 
know. He was never happy until he had discovered some 
inaccessible and impracticable mountain and then thrown 
himself against it and come to grips with it in dead earnest 
and either conquered it or been thrown back from it utterly 
and completely exhausted, but with the satisfaction that 
anyhow he had exercised every nerve and muscle and faculty 
to the fuU. His native mountains he had early conquered 
over and over again, so he had to look further afield to Mount 
EHas in Alaska and Ruwenzori in East Africa ; and having 
vanquished these he would doubtless have turned his eyes 
to Mount Everest if for political reasons the way to that 
mountain had not been barred, and he was compelled 
therefore to look to the next highest mountain, namely, the 
peak K2 in the Karakoram Himalaya in the neighbourhood 
of which he attained to a greater height, 24,600 feet, than 
has yet been attained by any man on foot. 

The Duke no doubt is human and would like his name 
to go down to posterity as having conquered some 
conspicuously lofty and difficult peak. But undoubtedly 
the ruling passion with him would be this love of pitting 
himself against a great mountain and feeling that he was 
being forced to exert himself to the fuU. To such men a 
tussle with a mountain is a real tonic — something bracing 
and refreshing. And even if they are laid out flat by the 
mountain instead of standing triumphant on its summit 
they have enjoyed the struggle and would go back for 
another if they ever had the chance. 

Others — like Bruce — climb from sheer exuberance of 
spirits. Blessed with boundless energy they revel in its 
exercise. It is only on the mountain side, breathing its 
pure air, buffeting against its storms, testing their nerve, 
running hair-breadth risks, exercising their intelligence and 
judgment, feeling their manhood and looking on Nature face 
to face and with open heart and mind that they are truly 
happy. For these men days on the mountain are days 
when they reaUy live. And as the cobwebs in their brainy 



4 MOUNT EVEREST 

get blown away, as the blood begins to course refreshingly 
through their veins, as all their faculties become tuned up 
and their whole being becomes more sensitive, they detect 
appeals from Nature they had never heard before and see 
beauties which are revealed only to those who win them. 
They may not at the moment be aware of the deepest 
impressions they are receiving. But to those who have 
struggled with them the mountains reveal beauties they 
will not disclose to those who make no effort. That is the 
reward the mountains give to effort. And it is because they 
have much to give and give it so lavishly to those who will 
wrestle with them that men love the mountains and go back 
to them again and again. 

And naturally the mountains reserve their choicest gifts 
for those who stand upon their summits. The climber's 
vision is then no longer confined and enclosed. He can see 
now all round. His width of outlook is enlarged to its full 
extremity. He sees in every direction. He has a sense of 
being raised above the world and being proudly conscious 
that he has raised himself there by his own exertions, he has 
a peculiar satisfaction and for the time forgets all frets and 
worries in the serener atmosphere in which he now for a 
moment dwells. 

And it is only for a moment that he can dwell there. For 
men cannot always hve on the heights. They must come 
down to the plains again and engage in the practical life of 
the world. But the vision from the heights never leaves 
them. They want to return there. They want to reach a 
higher height. Their standard of achievement rises. And 
so it has come about that mountaineers when they had 
climbed the highest heights in Europe went off to the 
Caucasus, to the Andes, and eventually to the Himalaya 
to climb something higher still. Freshfield conquered the 
Caucasus, Whymper and Conway the Andes, and the 
assault upon the Himalaya is now in full swing. 

It is therefore only in the natural course of things that 
naen should want to climb the highest summit of the* 



THE INTRODUCTION 5 

Himalaya. And though those who set out to chmb Mount 
Everest wiU probably think little of the eventual results, 
being perfectly satisfied in their own minds, without any 
elaborate reasoning, that what they are attempting is 
something supremely worth while, yet it is easy for lookers 
on to see that much unexpected good wUl result from their 
activities. The climbers wHl be actuated by sheer love of 
mountaineering, and that is enough for them. ' But climb- 
ing Mount Everest is no futile and useless performance of 
no satisfaction to anyone but the climbers. Results wiU 
foUow from it of the highest value to mankind at large. 

For the climbers are unwittingly carrying out an 
experiment of momentous consequence to mankind. They 
are testing the capacity of the human race to stand the 
highest altitudes on this earth which is its home. No 
scientific man, no physiologist or physician, can now say 
for certain whether or not a human body can reach a height 
of 29,000 feet above the sea... ' We know that in an aeroplane 
he can be carried up to a much greater height. But we do 
not know whether he can climb on his own feet such an 
altitude. That knowledge of men's capacity can only be 
acquired by practical experiment in the field. 

And in the process of acquiring the knowledge a valuable 
result wiU ensue. By testing their capacities men actually 
increase them. By exercising their capacities to the full 
mountaineers seem to enlarge them. A century ago the 
ascent of Mount Blanc seemed the limit of human capacity. 
Nowadays hundreds ascend the mountain every year. And 
going further afield men ascended the highest peaks in the 
Caucasus and then in the Andes and have been reaching 
higher and higher altitudes in the Himalaya. Conway 
reached 23,000 feet, KeUas 23,186 feet, Longstaff 23,360 
feet. Dr. Workman 23,000 feet, Kellas and Meade 23,600 
feet and the Duke of the Abruzzi 24,600 feet. It looks there- 
fore as if man by attempting more was actually making 
himself capable of achieving more. By straining after the 
highest he is increasing his capacity to attain it. 



6 MOUNT EVEREST 

In this measuring of themselves against the mountains 
men are indeed very Uke puppies crawling about and testing 
their capacities on their surroundings — crawling up on to 
some obstacle, tumbling back discomfited but returning 
gallantly to the attack and at last triumphantly surmounting 
it. Thus do they find out what they can do and how they 
stand in relation to their surroundings. Also by exercising 
and stretching their muscles and faculties to the fuU they 
actually increase their capacity. 

Men are still only in the puppy stage of existence. We 
are prone to think ourselves very " grown up " but really 
we are only in our childhood. In the latest discussions as 
to the period of time which must have elapsed since life 
first appeared upon this earth a period of the order of a 
thousand miUion years was named. But of that immense 
period man has been in existence for only a quarter or half 
a million years. So the probability is that he has still long 
years before him and must be now only in his childhood — 
in his puppyhood. We certainly find that as he inqui- 
sitively looks about his surroundings and measures himself 
against them he is steadily increasing his mastery over them. 
In the last five hundred years record after record has 
been beaten. Men have ventured more and shown more 
adaptabUity and a sterner hardihood and endurance than 
ever before. They have ventiu'ed across the oceans, 
circumnavigated the globe, reached the poles, risen into the 
air, and it can be only a question of time — a few months 
or a few years — before they reach the highest summit of 
the earth. 

" What then ? " some will ask. " Suppose men do 
reach the top of Mount Everest, what then ? " " Suppose 
we do estabhsh the fact that man has the capacity to surmount 
the highest summit of his surroundings, of what good is that 
knowledge ? " This is the Idnd of question promoters of 
the enterprise contmuaUy have to answer. One reply is 
obvious. The sight of climbers strugglmg upwards to the 
supreme pinnacle will have taught men to hft their eyes 



THE INTRODUCTION 7 

unto the hiUs — to raise them off the ground and direct them, 
if only for a moment, to something pure and lofty and 
satisfying to that inner craving for the worthiest which all 
men have hidden in their souls. And when they see men 
thrown back at first but venturing again and again to the 
assault till with faltering footsteps and gasping breaths 
they at last reach the summit they will thrill with pride. 
They will no longer be obsessed with the thought of what 
mites they are in comparison with the mountains — how 
insignificant they are beside their material surroundings. 
They wiU have a proper pride in themselves and a well- 
grounded faith in the capacity of spirit to dominate material. 

And direct practical results flow from this increasing 
confidence which man is acquiring in face of the mountains. 
A century ago Napoleon's crossing of the Alps was thought 
an astounding feat. During the last thirty years troops 
— and Indian troops — ^have been moved about the Himalaya 
in aU seasons and crossed passes over 15,000 feet above sea 
level in the depth of winter. On the Gilgit frontier, in 
Chitral, and in Tibet, neither cold nor snow nor wind stopped 
them. In winter or in summer, in spring or in autumn, 
they have faced the Himalayan passes. And they have 
been able to negotiate them successfully because of their 
increased knowledge of men's capacities and of the way 
to overcome difficulties that constant wrestling with 
mountains in all parts of the world during the last half- 
century has given. The activities of the Alpine Club have 
produced direct practical results in the movement of troops 
in the Himalaya. ^ 

More stiU wiU foUow./When men have proved that 
they can surmount the highest peak in the Himalaya they 
will take heart to chmb other peaks and become more and 
more at home in that wonderful region, extending for nigh 
two thousand miles from the Roof of the World in the North 
and West to the borders of Burma and China in the South 
and East and containing more than seventy peaks over 
24,000 feet in height — that is higher than any in the Andes, 



8 MOUNT EVEREST 

the second highest range of mountains in the world — and 
more than eleven hundred peaks over 20,000 feet in height. 
This great mountam region which in Eiu^ope would stretch 
from Calais to the Caspian is one vast mine of beauty of 
every varied description. And a mine of beauty has this 
advantage over a mine of material wealth — that we can 
never exhaust it. ' And not only can we never exhaust it, 
but the more we take out the more we find, and the more 
we give away the richer we are. We may go on digging 
into a gold mine, but eventually we shall find there is no 
gold left. We shall have exhausted our mine. But we may 
dig into that mine of beauty in the Himalaya and never 
exhaust it. The more we dig the more we shall find — richer 
beauty, subtler beauty, more varied beauty — beauty of 
mountain form and beauty of pure and delicate colour, 
beauty of forest, beauty of river and beauty of lake and 
combmed beauty of rushing torrent, precipitous chfiE, richest 
vegetation and overtoppmg snowy summit. And when we 
have discovered these treasures and made them our own 
we can actually increase their value to ourselves by giving 
them away to others. By imparting to others the enjoy- 
ment which we have felt we shall have increased our own 
enjoyment. 

We cannot expect those who are first engaged in cHmbmg 
Mount Everest to have the time or inclination to observe 
and describe the full beauty there is. They will be set on over- 
commg the physical difficulties and they will be so exhausted 
for the moment by the effort they will have made that they 
will not have the repose of mind which is so necessary for 
seeing and depicting beauty. But when they have pioneered 
the way and beaten down a path, others will more leisurely 
follow after. Many even of these may not be able to express 
in words or in picture the enjoyment they have felt and be 
able to communicate it to others. They may not be given 
to pubhc speech or writing and may have no capacity for 
pamtmg. The flame of their enjoyment may be kept sacred 
and hidden within them, and it may be only in the privacy 



THE INTRODUCTION 9 

of coUoquy with some kindred soul that the white glow of 
their enjoyment may ever be shown. But, others there 
may be who have the capacity for making the world at 
large share with them some little of the joy they have felt — 
who can make our nerves tingle and our blood course quicker, 
our eyes uplift themselves and our outlook widen as we 
go out with them to face and overcome the mountains. 
Such men as these from their very intimacy with the 
mountains are able to point out beauties which distant 
beholders would never suspect. And as Leslie Stephen 
through his love of mountains has been able to attract 
thousands to the Alps and given them enjoyment, clean 
and fresh, which but for him they might never have known, 
so we hope that in the fulness of time a greater Stephen 
will tell of the unsurpassable beauty of the Himalaya and 
by so doing add appreciably to the enjoyment of human 
life. 

Such are some of the advantages which men in general 
wUl obtain from the attempt to climb Mount Everest. 
But it is time now to say something of the mountain 
itself. 

Mount Everest for its size is a singularly shy and retiring 
mountain. It hides itself away behind other mountains. 
On the north side, in Tibet, it does indeed stand up proudly 
and alone, a true monarch among mountains. But it stands 
in a very sparsely inhabited part of Tibet, and very few 
people ever go to Tibet. From the Indian side only its 
tip appears among a mighty array of peaks which being 
nearer look higher. Consequently for a long time no one 
suspected Mount Everest of being the supreme mountain 
not only of the Himalaya but of the world. At the time 
when Hooker was making his Himalayan journeys — that 
was in 1849 — Kanchenjunga was believed to be the highest. 

How it was eventually discovered to be the highest is 
a story worth recording. In the very year that Hooker 
was botanising in the Sikkim Himalaya the of&cers of the 



10 MOUKT EVEREST 

Great Trigonometrical Survey were making observations 
from the plains of India to the peaks in Nepal which could 
be seen from there. When they could find a native name 
for a peak they caUed it by that name. But in most cases 
no native name was forthcoming, and in those cases a Roman 
number was affixed to the peak. Among these unnamed 
peaks to which observations to determine the altitude and 
position were taken from stations in the plains was Peak XV. 
The observations were recorded, but the resulting height 
was not computed tUl three years later, and then one day the 
Bengali Chief Computer rushed into the room of the Surveyor- 
General, Sir Andrew Waugh, breathlessly exclaiming, " Sir ! 
I have discovered the highest mountain in the world." The 
mean result of all the observations taken from the six stations 
from which Peak XV had been observed came to 29,002 
feet, and this Peak XV is what is now known as Mount 
Everest. 

The question is often asked, " Why twenty-nine thousand 
and two ? " " Why be so particular about the two ? " 
The answer is that that particular figure is the mean of 
many observations. But it is not infaUible. It is indeed 
in aU probabihty below rather than above the mark, and 
a later computation of the observed results puts the height 
at 29,141 feet. In any case, however, there are, as Sir 
Sidney Burrard has pointed out in his discussion of this 
point in Burrard and Hayden's Himalaya and Tibet, many 
causes of slight error in observmg and computmg the altitude 
of a distant and very lofty peak. The observations are 
made with a theodohte. The telescope of the theodohte 
may not be absolutely perfect. The theodolite may not 
be levelled with perfect accuracy. The graduations on 
the circle of the theodolite may not be quite accurate. The 
observer himself may not have observed with sufficient 
perfection. An error of ten feet may have resulted from 
these causes. Then there are other and greater sources of 
possible error. There may be error in the assumed height 
of the observing station ; and the altitudes of peaks are 



THE INTRODUCTION 11 

always varying in nature with the increase and decrease 
of snow in summer and winter and in a season of heavy 
snowfall or a season of light snowfall. Another source of 
error arises from the varying effects of gravitational attrac- 
tion. " The attraction of the great mass of the Himalaya 
and Tibet," says Burrard, " pulls all liquids towards itself, 
as the moon attracts the ocean and the surface of the water 
assumes an irregular form at the foot of the Himalaya. 
If the ocean were to overflow Northern India its surface 
would be deformed by Himalayan attraction. The liquid 
in levels is similarly affected and theodolites cannot conse- 
quently be adjusted ; their plates when levelled are still 
tilted upward towards the mountains, and angles of observa- 
tion are too small by the amount the horizon is inclined to 
the tangential plane. At Darjeeling the surface of water 
in repose is inclined about 35" to this plane, at Kurseong 
about 51", at SUiguri about 23", at Dehra Dun and Mussooree 
about 37". For this reason all angles of elevation to Himalayan 
peaks measured from the plains, as Mount Everest was 
measured, are too small and consequently all our values 
of Himalayan heights are too small. Errors of this nature 
range from 40 to 100 feet." 

This then is a considerable source of error, but the 
most serious source of uncertainty affecting the value of 
heights is the refraction of the atmosphere. A ray of light 
from a peak to an observer's eye does not travel along a 
straight line but assumes a curved path concave to the 
earth. The ray enters the observer's eye in a direction 
tangential to the curve at that point, and this is the direction 
in which the observer sees the peak. It makes the peak 
appear too high. Corrections have therefore to be applied. 
But there is no certainty as to what should be the amount 
of the correction ; and it is now believed that the computers 
of the height of Mount Everest applied too great a correction 
for refraction and consequently reduced its height too 
much. 

Burrard brings together in the following table the different 



12 



MOUNT EVEREST 



errors to which the carefully determined height of Mount 
Everest is liable : — ■ 



Source of error. 



Magnitude of possible 
error. 



Variation of snow level from the mean 

Errors of observation 

Adoption of erroneous height for observing station 

Deviation of gravity 

Atmospheric refraction 



Unknown 
10 feet 
10 feet 

60 feet, too small 
150 feet, too small 



The following table shows how the different values of 
the height of Mount Everest have been deduced : — 



Height of Motint Everest 



Observing station. 


Year of 
observation. 


Distance 
in miles. 


Height as 
determined 
by Waugh. 


Determination 

of height 

with revised 

correction for 

refraction. 


Jirol . . 
Mirzapur 
Joafpati . 
Ladnia . 
Harpur . 
Minai 
Suberkum 
Suberkum 
Tiger HiU 
Sandakphu 
Phallut . 
Senchal . 








1849 
1849 
1849 
1849 
1849 
1850 
1881 
1883 
1880 
1883 
1902 
1902 


118 

108 

108 

108 

111 

113 

87 

87 

107 

89 

85 

108 


Feet 
28,991 
29,005 
29,001 
29,998 
29,026 
28,990 


Feet 
29,141 
29,135 
29,117 
29,144 
29,146 
29,160 
29,141 
29,127 
29,140 
29,142 
29,151 
29,134 


Mean 


— 


— 


29,002 


29,141 



The height 29,141 is still, Burrard thinks, too small, as 
it has yet to be corrected for the deviations of gravity. But 
though it is a more reliable result than 29,002, the latter is 



THE INTRODUCTION 13 

stiU to be retained in maps and publications of the Survey 
of India. 

As to the name, it was called Everest after the distin- 
guished Surveyor-General of India under whose direction 
the triangulation had been carried out, one result of which 
was the discovery of the mountain. From the Indian 
side and Nepal it is not a conspicuous peak on account of 
its lying so far back. No native name for it could be 
discovered and Sir Andrew Waugh, the successor of Sir 
George Everest, called it after his predecessor. From the 
Tibetan side it is much more conspicuous and, as General 
Bruce stated in his lecture to the Royal Geographical Society 
in November 1920, and as Colonel Howard-Bury found 
in 1921, the Tibetans call it Chomo-lungmo, which Colonel 
Howard-Bury translated, the " Goddess Mother of the 
Mountains " — a most appropriate name. But the name 
Mount Everest is now so firmly established throughout the 
world that it would be impossible to change it. It is 
therefore now definitely adopted. 

Now, this mountain so coveted by mountaineers is 
unfortunately situated exactly on the border between two 
of the most secluded countries in the world — Nepal and 
Tibet. To reach it the climbers must pass through one 
or other of these countries and the difficulty of getting the 
necessary permission is what has so far prevented any 
attempt being made to attack Mount Everest/ But recently 
access through Tibet has become more possible, and it so 
happens that it is on the Tibetan side that the summit seems 
most accessible. ' From the distant views that could be 
obtained of it from Sandakphu beyond Darjeeling and 
from Kampa Dzong in Tibet, a ridge running from the summit 
in a northerly direction seemed to give good promise of 
access. Major Ryder and Captain Rawling in 1904, viewing 
the mountain from a distance of sixty miles almost due 
north, thought the mountain might be approached from 
that direction. At the same time the Tibetans were 
distinctly more favourable to travellers than they had ever 



14 MOUNT EVEREST 

been before. The chances therefore of at least exploring 
Mount Everest were much more promising, and Major 
Rawling was planning an expedition of exploration when 
the war broke out and he was kUled. 

Mr, Douglas Freshfield would certainly have taken the 
matter up during his Presidency of the Royal Geographical 
Society, but he had the misfortune to hold that post during 
the years of the war and no action was possible. But as 
soon as the war was over interest in Mount Everest revived. 
In March 1919 Captain J. B. L. Noel read a paper to the 
Royal Geographical Society describing a reconnaissance 
he had made in the direction of the mountain in the year 
1913. He showed how attention during the last few years 
had been focused more and more upon the Himalaya and 
said, " Now that the Poles have been reached, it is generally 
felt that the next and equally important task is the explora- 
tion and mapping of Mount Everest." So he urged that 
the exploration which had been the ambition of the late 
General Rawling with whom he was to have joined should 
be accompHshed in his memory. " It cannot be long," 
he continued, " before the culminating summit of the world 
is visited and its ridges, vaUeys and glaciers are mapped 
and photographed." And at the conclusion of his lecture 
he said that " some day the political difficulties wUl be 
overcome and a fuUy equipped expedition must explore and 
map Mount Everest." 

It was not clear whether Captain Noel was advocating 
a definite attempt to climb the moixntain and reach the 
actual summit, and Mr. Douglas Freshfield and Dr. KeUas 
who followed after him referred only to the approaches to 
Mount Everest. But Captain J. P. Farrar, the then 
President of the Alpine Club, seems to have considered it 
" a proposal to attempt the ascent of Mount Everest," and 
said that the Alpine Club took the keenest interest in the 
proposal and was prepared not only to lend such financial 
aid as was in its power, but also to recommend two or three 
young mountaineers quite capable of deahng with any 



THE INTRODUCTION 15 

purely mountaineering difficulties which were likely to be 
met with on Mount Everest. 

The hour was late, but I was so struck by the ring of 
assurance and determination in the words of the President 
of the Alpine Club that I could not help asking the President, 
Sir Thomas Holdich, to let me say a few words. I then 
told how General Bruce had made to me, twenty-six years 
ago, the proposal to climb Mount Everest. I said the 
Royal Geographical Society was interested in the project 
and now we had heard the President of the Alpine Club 
say that he had young mountaineers ready to undertake 
the work. I added, "It must be done." There might be 
one or two attempts before we were successful, but the first 
thing to do was to get over the trouble with our own 
Government. If they were approached properly by Societies 
like the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club, 
and a reasonable scheme were put before them and it were 
proved to them that we meant business, then, I said, they 
would be reasonable and do what we wanted. This was a 
big business and must be done in a big way and I hoped 
that something really serious would come of that meeting, i 

Sir Thomas Holdich in closing the meeting advocated 
approaching Mount Everest through Nepal, and hoped 
that at some time not very remote we should hear more 
about the proposed expedition to Mount Everest. 

Only a few days after the meeting I met Colonel Howard- 
Bury at lunch with a Fellow of our Society, Mr. C. P. 
McCarthy. He was not a mountaineer in the Alpine Club sense 
of the word, but he had spent much of his time shooting in the 

1 In the enthusiasm of the moment I seem to have displayed a regret- 
table excess of "nationalism " ! According to the record, I expressed the 
hope that it would be an Englishman who first stood on the summit of 
Mount Everest. I trust my foreign friends will excuse me ! I have this 
at least to plead in extenuation, that if I have always striven for my own 
countrymen when they led the way, I have never been backward in helping 
explorers of other nationaUties whom I have met in the Himalaya ; and 
I have received the thanks of both the French and Italian Governments 
for the help I have given to French and ItaHan explorers. 



16 MOUNT EVEREST 

Alps and in the Himalaya, and becoming deeply interested 
in the Mount Everest project, had a talk with Mr. Freshfield 
about it and made a formal application to the Society for 
their support in undertaking an expedition. Things now 
began to move, and the Society apphed to the India Office 
for permission to send an expedition into Tibet for the 
purpose of exploring Mount Everest. The Government 
of India in reply said that they were not prepared at the 
moment to approach the Tibetan Government ; but they 
did not return any absolute refusal. 

During my Presidency the Society, in conjunction with 
the Alpine Club, still further pressed the matter. We asked 
the Secretary of State for India to receive a deputation 
from the two bodies, and the request being granted and the 
deputation being assured of his sympathy we invited Colonel 
Howard-Bury to proceed to India in June 1920 to explain 
our wishes personally to the Government of India, and ask 
them to obtain for us from the Dalai Lama the necessary 
permission to enter Tibet for the purpose of exploring and 
chmbmg Mount Everest. Lord Chelmsford, the Viceroy, 
received Colonel Howard-Bury most sympathetically and 
after some preliminary difficulties had been overcome, Mr. 
Bell, the Political Agent in Sikkim, who happened to be in 
Lhasa, was instructed to ask the Dalai Lama for permission, 
and Mr. BeU being on most friendly terms with His Holiness, 
permission was at once granted. 

The one great obstacle in the way of approaching Mount 
Everest had now at last been removed. What so many 
keen mountaineers had for years dreamed of was within 
sight. And as soon as the welcome news arrived — early in 
January 1921 — preparations were commenced to organise 
an expedition, A joint Committee of thi'ee representatives 
each from the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine 
Club was formed under the Chairmanship of the President 
of the former Society and was named the Mount Everest 
Committee. The three members of the Society were Sir 
Francis Younghusband, Mr. E. L. Somers-Cocks (Honorary 



THE INTRODUCTION 17 

Treasurer) and Colonel Jack. The three members of the 
Alpine Club were Professor Norman Collie, Captain J. P. 
Farrar and Mr. C. F. Meade. Mr. Eaton and Mr. Hinks were 
Honorary Secretaries. 

Our first business was to select a leader for the Expedition. 
General Bruce, who had had the idea in his mind for so 
many years, who knew the Himalaya as no one else did, 
and who had a special aptitude for handling Himalayan 
people, was now in England, and it was to him our thoughts 
first turned. But he had just taken up an appointment 
with the Glamorganshire Territorial Association and was not 
then available. In these circumstances we were fortunate in 
having ready to hand a man with such high quahfications as 
Colonel Howard-Bury. He had much to do on his property 
in Ireland, but he willingly accepted our invitation to lead 
the Expedition, and we could then proceed to the choice of 
the mountaineers. 

From the very first we decided that the main object 
of the Expedition was to be the ascent of the mountain and 
that aU other activities were to be made subordinate to the 
supreme object of reaching the summit. It was to be no 
mere surveying or geologising or botanising expedition 
which would as a secondary object try to climb the moun- 
tain if it saw a chance. To cHmb the mountain was to be 
the first object and the mapping and everything else was 
to come afterwards. The reason for this is obvious. What 
men really want to know is whether man can ascend the 
highest mountain. 

Knowledge of the topography, fauna and flora of that 
particular area is of very small consequence in comparison 
with the knowledge of human capacity to surmount the 
highest point in men's physical surroundings on this earth. 
By some perversity of human nature there are men who 
shy at putting the ascent of Mount Everest in the forefront, 
because it is adventurous and must therefore, they seem 
to think, cease to be a scientific object. They profess to 
be unconcerned with the climbing of the mountain so long 

M.E. c 



18 MOUNT EVEREST 

as a map is made or plants collected. But the plain man 
instinctively sees the value of the adventure and knows 
that the successful ascent of Mount Everest will show what 
man is capable of and put new hope and heart into the human 
race. 

But while it was decided to make the ascent of Moiint 
Everest the main object of the Expedition, Professor Norman 
Collie and Mr. Douglas Freshfield from the first insisted 
that a whole season must be devoted to a thorough recon- 
naissance of the mountain with a view to finding not only 
a feasible route to the summit but what was without any 
doubt the most feasible route. We knew nothmg of the 
immediate approaches to the mountain. But we knew 
that the only chance of reachmg the summit was by finding 
some way up which would entaU httle rock-climbing or ice 
step-cutting. The mountain had therefore to be prospected 
from every side to find a comparatively easy route and to 
make sure that no other easier route than the one selected 
existed. This was considered ample work for the Expedi- 
tion for one season, while the following season would be 
devoted to an all-out effort to reach the summit along the 
route selected in the first year. 

On this basis the first year's Expedition had accordingly 
to be organised. The mountain party was to consist of 
fourjmembers, two of whom were to be men of considerable 
experience and two younger men who it was hoped would 
form the nucleus of the climbing party the next year. 
Mr. Harold Raeburn, a member of the Alpine Club who 
had had great experience of snow and rock work in the 
Alps, and who had in 1920 been climbing on the spurs of 
Kanchenjunga, was invited to lead the mountain party. 
Dr. KeUas, who had made several chmbing expeditions in 
the Himalaya and had in 1920 ascended to a height of 23,400 
feet on Mount Kamet, was also invited to join the climbing 
party. He had been makuig experiments in the use of 
oxygen at liigh altitudes and was stUl out in India preparing 
to continue these experiments on Mount Kamet in 1921. 



THE INTRODUCTION 19 

It was suggested to him that he should make the experi- 
ments on Mount Everest instead, and the party would thereby 
have the benefit of his wide Himalayan experience. This 
invitation he accepted. 

The two younger members selected for the climbing 
party were Mr. George Leigh Mallory and Captain George 
Finch, both with a very high reputation for climbing in the 
Alps. Unfortunately Captain Finch was for the time 
indisposed and his place at the last moment had to be 
taken by Mr. BuUock of the Consular Service, who had 
been at Winchester with Mr. Mallory and who happened 
to be at home on leave. Through the courtesy of Lord 
Curzon he was able to get special leave of absence from the 
Foreign Office. 

While we were findmg the men we had also to be finding 
the money. As a quite rough guess we estimated the 
Expedition for the two years would cost about £10,000, and 
at least a substantial portion of this had to be raised by 
private subscription. Appeals were made by their Presidents 
to the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society and to 
members of the Alpine Club, and Captain Farrar was 
especially energetic in urging the claims of the enterprise. 
As a result the members of the Alpine Club subscribed over 
£3,000 and the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society 
nearly that amount. Later on with the advice and help 
of Mr. John Buchan arrangements were made with The 
Times and the Philadelphia Ledger for the purchase of the 
rights of publication of telegrams from the Expedition, and 
with the Graphic for the purchase of photographs. So 
eventually the financial position of the Expedition was assured. 

The equipment and provisioning of the Expedition was 
undertaken by the Equipment Committee — Captain Farrar 
and Mr. Meade — and the greatest trouble was taken to 
ensure that the most suitable and best tents, sleeping 
bags, clothing, boots, ice-axes, ropes, cooking apparatus, 
provisions, etc., were purchased and that they were 
properly packed and listed. 



20 MOUNT EVEREST 

In the same way the scientific equipment was under- 
taken by Colonel Jack and Mr. Hinks. 

Finally the services of Mr. WoUaston, well known for 
his journeys in New Guinea and East Africa, were secured 
as Medical Officer and Naturalist to the Expedition. 

Throughout these preparations the advice and help of 
the best men in every line were freely and willingly forth- 
coming. For such an enterprise aU were ready to give a 
helping hand. Whether they were scientific men, or business 
men or journalists, they were ready to throw aside their own 
work and devote hours to ensuring that the Expedition should 
be a success along the lines on which they severally had 
most experience. 

And most valuable was the encouragement given to the 
Expedition by the interest which His Majesty showed in 
conversation with the President, and His Royal Highness 
the Prince of Wales in receiving Colonel Howard-Bury — 
an interest which was shown in practical form by generous 
subscriptions to the funds of the Expedition. 

The Expedition was able, therefore, to set out from England 
under the most favourable auspices, and it was to be joined 
in India by two officers of the Indian Survey Department, 
Major Morshead and Major Wheeler, and by an officer of 
the Indian Geological Survey, Dr. Heron. It was thus 
admirably equipped for the acquirement of knowledge. 
But acquirement of knowledge was not the only object 
which the Expedition had in view. It could not be doubted 
that the region would possess beauty of exceptional grandeur. 
So it was hoped that the Expedition would discover, describe 
and reveal to us, by camera and by pen, beauty no less 
valuable than the knowledge. 



THE NARRATIVE OF THE 
EXPEDITION 

By 
LIEUT.-GOL. G. K. HOWARD-BURY, D.S.O. 



CHAPTER I 
FROM DAEJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 

Early in May most of the members of the Expedition 
had assembled at Darjeeling. Mr. Raeburn had been the 
first to arrive there in order to collect as many coolies of the 
right type as he could. I had come out a few weeks earlier 
in order to visit the Indian Authorities at Simla and to 
make sure that there were no pohtical difficulties in the way. 
There I found every one very kind and helpful and all were 
anxious to do their best to assist the Expedition. Owing 
to the heavy deficit in the Indian Budget, the expenses of 
every Department had been rigorously cut down, and the 
Government of India were unable to give us financial 
assistance. They agreed, however, to take upon themselves 
the whole of the expenses of the survey, and to lend the 
Expedition the services of an officer of the Geological 
Department. The Viceroy, Lord Reading, who, together 
with Lady Reading, took the greatest interest in the 
Expedition, kindly gave us a subscription of 750 rupees, 
and at Darjeehng the Governor of Bengal, Lord Ronaldshay, 
had not only put up several members of the Expedition at 
his most comfortable house, but had also given the Expedition 
several rooms in which to collect their stores for separation 
and division into loads. Local stores, such as tea, sugar, 
flour and potatoes had to be bought on the spot. Coolies 
had to be collected and arrangements made for fitting them 
out with boots and warm clothing. The coolies were to 
receive pay at the rate of 12 annas per day while in Sikkim, 
and when in Tibet were to receive another 6 annas per day, 
either in cash or the equivalent in rations. The former 
proved the most acceptable eventually, except during the 



24 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

period when the cooUes were up on the glaciers, where there 
were no villages and consequently nothing could be bought. 
A passport had been sent to us by the Government at 
Lhasa under the seal of the Prime Minister of Tibet, of which 
the following is a translation : — 

To 

The Jongpens and Headmen of Pharijong, Ting-Ice, Khamba and Kharta. 
You are to bear in mind that a party of Sahibs are coming to see the 
Chha-mo-lung-ma mountain and they will evince great friendship towards 
the Tibetans. On the request of the Great Minister Bell a passport has 
been issued requiring you and aU officials and subjects of the Tibetan Govern- 
ment to supply transport, e.g. riding ponies, pack animals and coolies 
as required by the Sahibs, the rates for which should be fixed to mutual 
satisfaction. Any other assistance that the Sahibs may require either 
by day or by night, on the march or during halts, should be faithfully 
given, and their requirements about transport or anything else should be 
promptly attended to. AU the people of the country, wherever the Sahibs 
may happen to come, should render all necessary assistance in the best 
possible way, in order to maintain friendly relations between the British and 
Tibetan Governments. 

Despatched during the Iron-Bird Year. 
Seal of the Prime Minister. 

Our start had been originally arranged for the middle of 
May, but the " Hatarana," in which were most of our 
stores, was unable to obtain a berth, as accommodation in 
the Docks at Calcutta was very insufficient for the large 
number of steamers that call there ; she had therefore to 
lie out in the Hoogly for a fortnight before she could get 
room in the Docks. However, by May 11 everything was 
unloaded at Calcutta. The DarjeeUng-Himalayan Railway 
had generously given the Expedition a free pass over their line 
for all stores and goods, and as the Customs had granted a 
free entry into the country, everything was up in Darjeehng 
by May 14, The time of waiting at Darjeeling had, however, 
not been wasted. Four cooks had been engaged for the 
Expedition and some forty coohes. These were Sherpa 
Bhotias, whose homes were in the North-east corner of 
Nepal, some of them coming from villages only a few miles 
to the South of Mount Everest. They were an especially 



FROM DAEJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 25 

hardy tjrpe of coolie, accustomed to living in a cold climate 
arid at great heights. They were Buddhists by rehgion and 
therefore had no caste prejudices about food, and could 
eat anything. They proved at times quarrelsome and rather 
fond of strong drink ; they turned out, however, to be a useful 
and capable type of man, easUy trained in snow and ice work 
and not afraid of the snow. We later on picked up a few 
Tibetan cooHes in the Chumbi Valley and these proved to 
be as good as the best of the Sherpas. They were very 
hardy and got on well with the Tibetans, who were always 
rather suspicious of our Nepalese coolies. They were also 
less troublesome to manage and could carry heavy loads at 
great heights. These cooUes had all to be fitted with boots 
and very difficult this sometimes proved to be, as often their 
feet were almost as broad as they were long. Blankets, 
cap comforters, fur gloves and warm clothing were issued 
to aU of them, and for those who had to sleep at the 
highest camps, eiderdown sleeping-bags were also taken. 
Arrangements had also to be made for interpreters to 
accompany the Expedition, as with the exception of Major 
Morshead, who knew a little Tibetan, no one was able to 
speak the language. It was a matter of great importance 
to get hold of the right type of man as interpreter. It was 
essential to find men of some position and standing who 
knew not only the Tibetan language, but also aU their ways 
and customs. After many names had been suggested, we 
were very lucky in getting hold of two men who possessed 
these quahfications to a great extent. Gyalzen Kazi, who 
came from Gangtok in Sikkim, where he was a Kazi and 
landowner, was a young and ambitious man who knew the 
Tibetan language weU and was well read in their sacred 
writings and scriptures. The other one, Chheten Wangdi, 
was a Tibetan who had been for a time a captain in the 
Tibetan army, and who had left them and been attached 
to the Indian army in Egypt during the war. He was a 
most energetic, hard-working man, knew aU the Tibetan 
manners and customs, and was up to aU their tricks of 



26 THE NAERATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

procrastination and attempts at overcharging. By bis 
knowledge and persuasive powers the Expedition was sared 
many thousand rupees. 

The Expedition when it left Darjeeling included nine 
Europeans. The Alpme cUmbers were ]\Ir. Harold Raeburn, 
Dr. A. M. KeUas, Mr. G. L. MaUory and Mr. C. H. BuUock. 
Dr. KeUas had unfortunately m the early spring of this 
year tried his constitution very severely by chmbing Narsing,i 
and he had also spent several nights at very low temperatures 
in camps over 20,000 feet, on the slopes of Kabru,^ so 
that when he arrived at Darjeeling a few days before the 
Expedition was due to start, he was not in as fit a condition 
as he should have been. The two Surveyors were Major 
H. T. Morshead, D.S.O., and Major 0. E. Wheeler, M.C. 
These officers had been lent by the Survey of India. Major 
Morshead had aheady a considerable experience of travelling 
in the Eastern borders of Tibet and in the Kham country, 
where he had carried out some useful survey work, and 
imder him were three native surveyors, one of whom was 
left in Sikkim to roArise the existmg maps, which were very 
inaccurate, while the other two, Gujar Singh and Lalbir 
Singh, accompanied the Expedition and filled m all the 
details of the country traversed on their plane tables at a 
scale of 4 miles to the inch. Major 0. E. Wheeler, the other 
Siirveyor, was a member of the Canadian Alpine Club and 
a very keen cHmber himseK. He was an expert in the 
Canadian system of Photo Survey — a method especially 
useful and appUcable to a difficult and mountainous countrj^ 
The Indian Government had also lent the Expedition the 
services of Dr. A. M. Heron, of the Geological Survey of 
India, in order to study the geology of the country through 
which it was about to go, and about which nothing was 
knoAvn, and to mvestigate the problems which surround the 
age and the structui-e of the Himalayan range. Besides 
these, there was Mi-. A. F. Wollaston, a member of the Alpine 
Club and a very distinguished traveller as well, who had 
* Narsing and Kabru are two high mountains in the North of Sikkim. 



FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 27 

made some most interesting journeys around Ruwenzori 
in Africa and in the interior of New Guinea. He accompanied 
the Expedition in the capacity of Doctor, NaturaHst and 
Botanist, and was equipped with a complete collector's 
outfit. 

During our time of enforced waiting at Darjeeling, we 
came in for the Lebong races — a unique and very amusing 
entertainment. The course is a smaU circular one, where 
the top of the Lebong spur has been levelled, and only genuine 
Tibetan and Bhotia ponies are allowed to race there. There 
were always large entries for these races, as they were very 
popular among the hill-folk, who flocked into Darjeeling 
from great distances, dressed in their finest clothes and with 
their women covered with jewellery and wearing clothing 
of brilliant shades of green and red. There was very heavy 
betting on each race, and the amount of money that the 
coolies, sirdars or servants were able to put up was 
astonishing. In most of the races there was at least a field 
of ten, which made the start a very amusing affair. The 
jockeys were all hill-boys, and as they and the ponies were 
up to every dodge and trick, and were equally anxious to 
get off first, and as most of the ponies had mouths of iron, 
it was always a long time before a start could be made, and 
in nearly every race one or more of the ponies would run 
out of the course at the point nearest its own home. 

On May 13 Major Morshead with his assistant surveyors 
and fifty cooHes left Darjeeling for Khamba Dzong. They 
went the direct road up the Teesta Valley correcting the 
Sikkim map as they went along. Their object in going 
this way was to connect the Indian Survey with the new 
survey that it was proposed to carry out in Tibet, This 
would occupy all Major Morshead's time until we should be 
able to join him at Khamba Dzong in June. 

The chief transport of the Expedition consisted of 100 
mules belonging to the Supply and Transport Corps and 
lent to us by the Commander-in-Chief. These arrived at 
Darjeeling a few days before we were due to start and were 



28 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

camped in the open on the old parade ground at the top of 
Katapahar. Sub-Conductor Taylor, who had aheady had 
experience of mule transport in Tibet in 1904-5, and was 
to have come in charge of them, was unfortunately laid up 
at the last moment with a bad attack of influenza. The 
next man chosen was passed medically unfit, and the third 
man in temporary charge of the mules was, when he arrived 
at Darjeeling, already suffering from ague. It was not tUl 
May 15 that Sergeant Fowkes arrived, who was to take 
charge of the mules. He was a very capable and energetic 
N.C.O., and their subsequent failure was in no way due to 
him, but solely to the fact that the mules were in no kind of 
condition to do hard work in the hills, being sleek and fat 
from the plains where they had had very httle work to do. 
The muleteers, or drabies, were aU hUl-men and had been 
picked out specially for us and fitted out with every kind 
of warm clothing. Though there were a hundred mules, 
this did not mean that there were a hundred mules to carry 
our loads — so much extra warm clothing and blankets had 
been given to the drabies that together with aU their line 
gear it needed twenty-seven mules to carry their kit, which 
left only seventy-three mules for the Expedition loads, 
each mule carrying 160 lb., and this was not nearly sufficient 
for our requirements. A certain amount of our stores had 
therefore to be left behind at Government House, Darjeehng, 
for a second journey, and we only took with us sufficient 
food and supphes for three and a half months, relying on 
the mules going back and returning with the remainder of 
the stores in July or August. Owing to the camping grounds 
being small, and bungalow accommodation hmited on the 
journey across Sikkim, we divided ourselves into two parties 
with fifty mules and twenty cooUes in each party ; WoUaston, 
Wheeler, Mallory and myself being with the first party and 
Raebiirn, Kellas, Bullock and Heron with the second. 

The first party left Darjeeling on May 18, and the second 
party the following day. I remained behind to see the 
second party off, and then by doing a double march I caught 



FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 29 

the first party up that evening at Kalimpong, not, however, 
without noticing on the way that several of our mules were 
already knocked up. The night before we started rain 
came down in torrents, and it was stUl pouring when the 
mules came round in the morning, and though the rain stopped 
soon afterwards yet the hillsides were all wreathed in soft 
grey mists and every moss-hung branch and tree dripped 
steadily with moisture all day long. The first day's march 
from DarjeeHng was to Peshoke — a seventeen-mile march 
and down hill all the way after Ghoom. From DarjeeHng 
we gradually ascended some 500 feet to Ghoom and then 
for 6 miles followed the well-engineered cart road which 
leads below Senchal to the new mihtary cantonment of 
Takda which is, I believe, about to be abandoned, as the 
Gurkhas, for whom it was built, are not at all happy there. 
During the war it was used as a German internment camp. 
Along this ridge there are magnificent forests of evergreen 
oaks, aU of which were covered with ferns and orchids and 
long trailing mosses. This first ridge rising straight out of 
the plains condenses all the moisture-laden winds that blow 
up from the Bay of Bengal and causes it almost always to 
be enveloped in clouds and mists. The path now rapidly 
descended 4,000 feet, through tea plantations. The whole 
hillside was covered with tea bushes, neatly planted in fines, 
and showing a very vivid green at this time of the year. 
Here and there grew tall tree ferns, 20 feet to 30 feet in height, 
their stems covered with ferns and Coelogene orchids. The 
air was now growing hotter and hotter as we descended, 
but the wonderful and varied vegetation, the beautiful and 
brilfiantly coloured butterflies — for which the.Teesta VaUey 
is famous — ^that flitted across the path in front of us, proved 
an irresistible attraction, and made us forget the fact that 
we were dripping with perspiration from every pore. We 
had already descended nearly 5,000 feet by the time that 
we reached the P.W.D. bungalow at Peshoke, which was 
situated in a clearing in the forest. We were, however, 
still 2,000 feet above the muddy Teesta River which ran 



30 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

down below us in its steamy gorge, and the next morning 
saw us descending 2,000 feet through a Sal forest by a slippery 
path of clay leading to the suspension bridge which crosses 
the mighty river that with its affluents drains the whole of 
Sikldm. It rushes along with irresistible force in mighty 
waves and rapids, and though attempts have been made 
to float timber down it for commercial purposes, yet the 
current is too swift and the logs were aU smashed to pieces. 
Here at the bridge we were only 700 feet above the sea and 
the heat was intense. Several mules had been left exhausted 
at Peshoke and had been unable to proceed the foUowing 
day and several more only just reached Kalimpong, the 
second day's march, only 12 miles from Peshoke, but the 
climb of 3,300 feet up from the bridge over the Teesta in 
the steamy and enervating heat proved too much for 
them. The forests here were very beautiful — ^huge sal 
trees and giant terminalia abounded with weird and 
wonderful creepers embracing their stems, or hanging down 
from their branches. The handsome pothos — the finest of the 
creepers-^grew everywhere. The curious pandanus or screw 
pine displayed its long and picturesque fronds, while here 
and there among the dark green of the tropical forest showed 
up as a brilliant patch of colour the scarlet blooms of the 
clerodendrons. Above the forests the hfllsides had been 
terraced with immense labour into rice fields, which at this 
time of year were not yet planted out, but the fields of maize 
were already ripening. At Kahmpong there was a large 
and comfortable Dak bungalow, surromaded by a well-kept 
garden fuU of roses and scarlet hibiscus with a beautiful 
and large-flowered mauve solanum growmg up the pfllars 
on the verandah. At Kalimpong we were entertained by 
Dr. Graham and his charming daughters, who showed us 
true hospitahty and kindness. They five in a very pretty 
house embowered in roses on the crest of the hill and 
commanding lovely views over the Teesta VaUey and up 
to the snowy peaks of Kanchenjunga. Higher up on the 
spur are the homes ?ind the industrial schools that many 



FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 31 

years of hard work have brought into being, thanks to the 
indefatigable labours of Dr. Graham and the late Mrs. 
Graham ; these now hold between 600 and 700 pupils, both 
boys and girls, who, when they leave these schools, have 
all been taught some useful trade and are sent out as use- 
ful members of society. They are given as practical an 
education as could be wished for anywhere. At the 
Grahams' house I met David Macdonald, the British Trade 
Agent at Yatung, who was acting temporarily as political 
agent in Sikkim until Major Bailey arrived from England, 
He was an old friend of mine, as I had met him before in 
Tibet. He promised us every assistance in his power and 
had telegraphed to Yatung and to the Jongpen at Phari 
to have supplies and anything we wanted in readiness at 
those places. He told me that an old Tibetan Lama, who 
knew Mount Everest well, had described it as " Miti guti 
cha-phu long-nga," " the mountain visible from aU directions, 
and where a bird becomes blind if it flies so high." Through- 
out our journey across Sikkim the weather was very bad, 
with heavy falls of rain every day and night. We had had 
the bad luck to strike the Chota Bursat, or little monsoon, 
which usually heralds the coming of the proper monsoon a 
fortnight or three weeks later. 

The march to Pedong was an easy one of 14 miles with 
a gentle climb of 3,000 feet followed by a descent of 2,000 
feet past gardens beautiful with their great trees of scarlet 
hibiscus, daturas and bougainvilleas, which grew with 
wonderful luxuriance in this climate where frost is almost 
unknown in winter and where in summer the temperature 
scarcely ever exceeds 85° Fahrenheit. We passed some of 
the most wonderful datura hedges that I have ever seen 
with trees 15 feet to 20 feet in height and laden with hundreds 
of enormous white trumpet-shaped blooms 8 inches in 
diameter and fully a foot long. I could only stand and 
admire. At night these great white flowers glowed as though 
with phosphorescence in the dark and had a strangely sweet 
smell. I got thoroughly soaked on the march, for a couple 



32 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

of minutes of these deluges are sufficient to go through any 
"waterproof. 

Our mules were now beginning to give us great trouble. 
Several had to be left behind after each march and fresh 
animals had to be hired locally to replace those left behind. 
At Pedong there were more wonderful daturas, and aU 
along the next march we kept passing grand bushes of these 
flowers. It rained all that night and most of the following 
day, so that we had a very wet and trying march to Rongli 
— the distance was only 12 miles, but this included a very 
steep descent of over 3,000 feet to the bottom of a steamy 
valley, followed by a climb of 3,000 feet across an intervening 
ridge and then down another 2,000 feet to the RongH 
bungalow. The poor mules were very tired by the end of 
the march and one had died of colic on the way. Most 
of the others too were getting very sore backs from the 
constant rain. On the way Wollaston and I stopped at 
Rhenock to have a look at the Chandra Nursery kept by 
Tulsi Dass, where there were many interesting plants, chiefly 
collected in the Sikkim forests. There was a tree growing 
everywhere in the forests with a white flower which Sikkim 
people called Chilauni, and aU along the paths the Sikkim 
durbar had been busy planting mulberry, walnut and toon 
trees. There was a curious pink ground plant that grew in 
the forests which I was told belonged to the Amomum species. 
There were also beautiful orchids in the trees, mauve, white 
and yellow, belonging to the Dendrobium, Coelogene and 
Cymbidium families — some with fine sprays of flowers 18 
inches long. Here at Rongli the mules were so tired that 
we had to give them a day's rest before they could go on 
any further. It was a hot and feverish spot to stop in, 
and only necessity compelled us to do so, as we were unable 
to get any extra transport the following morning to 
supplement the mules that were sick. 

All that day we had passed numbers of mules coming 
down from Tibet laden with bales of wool, and others were 
returniag to Tibet with sheets of copper, manufactured goods. 



FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 33 

grain and rice which had been bought in exchange. The 
dark faces of the muleteers with their turquoise earrings 
formed a pretty picture and they were full of friendly smiles 
and greetings for us. The mules travelled on their own — 
if any mule stopped on the path, a stone always aimed with 
the greatest accuracy reminded him that it was time to 
go on. Owing to our having to halt a day at Rongli, we had 
to stop the second party, and were able to do this at Ari, 
a bungalow 3 miles short of Rongli. I rode up to see 
how they were getting on, and found they were having the 
same trouble with their mules that we had been having. 
On May 23 we left for Sedongchen, or Padamchen as the 
Tibetans called it. Sedongchen is the old local name, 
so-called because there once grew there a very large 
" Sedong " tree. This is a tree that has a white sap which 
irritates the skin intensely and sets up a rash. Sedongchen 
was only 9 miles from Rongli, but there was a very steep 
climb, from 2,700 feet up to 7,000 feet, and our mules only 
just managed to arrive there. The first part of the way 
is alongside the rushing stream of the Rongli, through 
lovely woods and dense tropical vegetation. Caladiums, 
kolocasias and begonias were growing on every rock, and 
the giant pothos with its large shining leaves grew up the 
stems of many of the trees. CHmbers of all kinds, such as 
vines and peppers, hung down from the branches. Here, too, 
were magnificent forest trees, fully 150 feet high, with clean 
straight trunks and without a branch for a hundred feet ; 
others nearly equally tall, which the Sikkim people call 
" Panisage," had huge buttresses and trunks nearly 40 feet 
in circumference. Every branch here was covered by thick 
matted growth of orchids. For the first time since leaving 
Darjeeling the sun shone, and after we left the forests we 
found the uphUl climb very hot. On to-day's march, 
out of the fifty mules with which we started there were only 
fourteen carrying our own Idt, and of those fourteen we 
found on arrival at Sedongchen that none would be fit to 
proceed on the following day. It was therefore with great 

M.E. D 



34 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

reluctance that I felt compelled to send back the Govern- 
ment mules, as they could not only not carry their own line 
gear, but had become an extra and very large source of 
expense and worry to us. That the mules should have 
completely broken down like this after a five days' march 
showed that they must have been in no kind of training 
and condition and were completely unfitted for heavy work 
in the mountains. The hill ponies and mules that we had 
hired to supplement them, although they had been given 
the heaviest loads, always arrived first, and made nothing 
of each march. By this failure of the Government transport 
we were now thrown back on our own resources, and obhged 
to depend everywhere on what local transport we could 
obtain, and this often took some time to collect. 

At Sedongchen there was a pleasant bungalow, rather 
Swiss in appearance, with fine views down the Rongli VaUey 
and across aU the forest ridges over which we had come, 
right back to Darjeeling. Opposite us, to the South-east, 
were densely wooded hiUs with clouds and mists di'if ting along 
the tops, while here and there a waterfall showed up white 
amidst the dark green vegetation. 

Rain came down steadily all night, but the morning 
proved somewhat finer. Being on the main trade route, 
we were luckily able to get other transport to replace the 
Government mules and to arrange for hired mules as far 
as Yatung. The local animal is a wonderful beast, extremely 
sure footed, and not minding in the least a chmb of 6,000 
feet. The path from Sedongchen is really only a stone 
causeway, very shppery and unpleasant either to walk or 
ride upon, but probably anything else would be worn away 
by the torrential rams that fall here. At one place we 
had to make a wide detour, as the rain of the night before 
had washed away some hundred yards of the pathway, 
but luckily this was not in a very steep part, as otherwise 
we might have been delayed for several days. The constant 
rain had already brought out the leeches, and on most 
of the stones or blades of grass beside the path they sat 



FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 35 

waiting for their meal of blood and clung on to any mule 
or human being that passed by. The mules suffered severely, 
and drops of blood on the stones became frequent from 
the bleeding wounds. 

The climb from Sedongchen to Gnatong was very steep 
with a rise of over 5,000 feet in the first 5 miles, and we 
soon got out of the zone of the leeches and on to the most 
wonderful zone of flowering rhododendrons. The rhodo- 
dendrons in the lower forest chiefly consisted of B. Argenteum 
and R. Falconeri. These grew in a great forest of oaks and 
magnolias, all covered with beautiful ferns among which 
showed up delightful mauve or white orchids. The lower 
rhododendrons had aheady flowered, but as we got higher 
we found masses of B. Cinnabarinum, with flowers showing 
every shade of orange and red. Then came rhododendrons 
of every colour — pink, deep crimson, yellow, mauve, white 
or cream coloured. It was impossible to imagine anything 
more beautiful, and every yard of the path was a pure 
dehght. Among the smaller flowers were the large pink 
saxifrage, while the deep reddish-purple primula covered 
every open space. There was also a very tiny pink primula 
— ^the smallest I have ever seen — and another one like a 
pink primrose, that grew on the banks above the path. 
We went along quite slowly all the way, botanising and 
admiring the scenery. The path mostly led along the top 
of a ridge, and the views and colours of the many-hued 
rhododendrons in the gullies on either side were very delight- 
ful. Gnatong, where we were to spend the night, was a very 
small and rather dirty village lying in a hoUow and sur- 
rounded by grassy hills. The fir trees {Abies Webbiana) 
no longer surrounded it, as those anywhere near had been 
cut down for firewood, or for btiilding houses. From here 
I was able to telephone to Mr. Isaacs, Mr. Macdonald's 
head clerk at Yatung, to ask him to make arrangements 
for ponies and mules for us both at Yatung and at Phari 
now that our transport had broken down. Wonderful 
rumours seemed to have preceded our advent. Stories 



36 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

that we were coming with 1,000 mules and 500 men seemed 
to have been spread about in Tibet. 

Gnatong is a most depressing place, and only owes its 
existence to the fact that it is the first stopping place for 
the caravans that cross over the Jelep Pass on the British 
side of the frontier. Rain always falls there, the rainfaU 
in the year being nearly 200 inches, and when rain does 
not faU the place is enveloped in mist, with the result that 
the mud was horrible. It poured with rain aU the time 
that we were there and we left again in heavy rain for the 
Jelep Pass 8 miles distant. We were already over 12,000 
feet when we started, and the top of the pass was 14,390 
feet, so that it was not a very serious climb. There was 
no view of any kind to be had as the rain fell steadily aU 
the way and the hillsides were aU veiled in mist. We had 
occasional glimpses of a hUlside pink, white or yeUow with 
rhododendrons, which now grew only about 5 feet high. 
I counted six or seven different varieties of primulas on the 
way, but near the top there was still plenty of the old winter 
snow lying about and the Alpine flowers were scarcely out. 
A big heap of stones marked the summit of the pass and 
the frontier between Sikkim and Tibet, and a few sticks, 
to which were attached strings covered with smaU pieces 
of rag on which were inscribed prayers, fluttered out in 
the strong wind that always blows up there. In the cold 
rain this was not a cheerful spot to Knger in, so we hurried 
on down a steep and stony path and after descending a few 
hundred feet emerged out of the mist and rain and obtained 
gHmpses of a really blue sky such as we had not seen for 
weeks. We had arrived at last in Tibet, 



CHAPTER II 

THE CHUMBI VALLEY AND THE TIBETAN 
PLATEAU 

The range of mountains which here forms the boundary 
between Sikkim and Tibet runs nearly North and South, 
and the two main passes across it are the Jelep La and 
the Nathu La, the latter being a few miles to the North 
of the Jelep La and about the same height. The Jelep La 
being the main trade route across which the telegraph line 
runs, and over which the postal runners travel, is kept open 
all the year round, though often after a heavy blizzard it 
is closed for ten days or a fortnight. On the Sikkim side 
the snow-fall is always the heaviest ; this range of mountains 
stops most of the moist currents that drive up from the 
Bay of Bengal, with the result that the rainfall in the Chumbi 
Valley on the Tibetan side is only about a quarter of what 
it is at Gnatong on the Sikkim side. 

The descent into the Chumbi Valley was very steep 
and stony, as there was a drop of over. 5,000 feet from the 
top of the pass. The beauty of the valley and its wild flowers 
made up, however, for the badness of the path. The rhodo- 
dendrons on the descent were extremely fine, and the whole 
character of the vegetation was altered and became more 
European. The great pink rhododendron Auchlandi showed 
up splendidly in the dark forests of silver fir {A. Webbiana) 
which here grows into a fine tree. There was also the yellow 
rhododendron Campylocarpum and a white rhododendron, 
probably Decorum ; the beautiful R. C innabarinum with 
its orange bells of waxy flowers relieved the darkness of the 
firs. There was a small Tibetan rest-house called Langra 
where our coolies wanted to stop, but we pushed on past 

37 



38 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

this and descended steeply through more wonderful forests. 
As we got lower we found birch, sycamore, wiUow and elder 
stiU clothed in the light green of early spring. A fine wliite 
clematis, a pink and white spiraea, a yellow berberis, wliite 
roses and the dark purple iris grew in profusion on either 
side of the path. Underneath these were the smaU flowers 
of the wild strawberry, which the Macdonald family 
collected later on in the year and made into jam in great 
quantities. 

Near the entrance to this side vaUey we came to Old 
Yatung with its Chinese custom-house and wall built right 
across the valley to keep the British from gomg any further. 
All this was now deserted and in ruins. Soon afterwards 
we arrived in the main Chumbi VaUey where were broad 
fields filled with potatoes and ripening barley. The houses 
here were mostly built of stone and wood and in two stories. 
In character they much resembled Tirolese houses except 
for the elaborate carving over the doors and windows and 
the many colours in which they were painted. We passed 
through the prosperous villages of Richengong, Phema and 
Chumbi before arriving at New Yatung, or Shassi as the 
Tibetans still prefer to caU it. Here was a comfortable 
bungalow overlooldng the bazaar on the other side of the 
river. Knowing that we had had a long and tiring march 
and that our coohes would only arrive late that night, Mrs. 
Macdonald had with much thoughtfulness sent over her 
servants who had tea and dinner prepared for us on a generous 
scale. No attention could have been more acceptable. It 
rained steadily aU that night — a somewhat unusual occurrence 
in this valley — but the next morning it cleared uj) and the 
day was dehghtful. 

The Chumbi VaUey is one of the richest valleys in Tibet. 
Yatung Hes at a height of 9,400 feet. Apples and pears 
do weU here, and barley, wheat and potatoes are grown 
in great quantities. At this time of the year the au" is scented 
by the wild roses which grow in large bushes covered with 
hundreds of cream-coloured and sweetly scented flowers. 



THE CHUMBI VALLEY 39 

The villages aU look extremely prosperous and an air of 
peace and contentment seems to pervade the valley. We 
had to hire a new lot of animals to take us on to Phari — 
28 miles further up the Chumbi VaUey. These aU arrived 
in good time, and by eight o'clock on May 27 our loads 
were all on their way. Before leaving, I sent off a telegram 
to Sir Francis Younghusband to announce the arrival of 
the Expedition ia Tibet, a telegram which arrived opportunely 
at the Anniversary Dinner of the Royal Geographical Society, 
just at the commencement of dinner. 

There is a small garrison at Yatung, consisting of twenty- 
five men of the 73rd Carnatics. There was also a hospital 
and a supply depot from which we were able to purchase 
sugar, flour, ata (coarse native flour) and potatoes, while 
later on we were able to send back to it for further suppHes. 
We formed quite an imposing procession as we started off : 
Wollaston and myself on our ponies, Gyalzen Kazi and 
Chheten Wangdi, our interpreters, on their ponies which 
they had brought along with them. There was Mr. Isaacs, 
the head clerk, with a red-coated chaprassi and a syce also 
mounted, who accompanied us on a visit to two monasteries 
further up the valley. The path followed close to the banks 
of the Ammo-chu, which was now a clear stream and contained 
many a hkely pool for fish. The valley was full of delightful 
flowers ; curious ground orchids, with several beautiful varieties 
of the ladies' sKpper grew there; the wild roses, especially 
the large red one, were very sweet-scented and filled the air 
with fragrance. Berberis, clematis and some charming dwarf 
rhododendrons abounded. After going about 3 miles the 
vaUey narrowed, and we passed the spot where the Chinese 
had built another wall across the valley to keep us out. 
Just above this wall there was a deserted Chinese village, 
for now all the Chinese have been driven out of the country 
and are not allowed to go back and Uve there. High above 
us on the hiUside was the Punagang Monastery belonging 
to the old sect of the Bhompo's, who turn their prayer 
wheels the opposite to every one else and always keep to 



40 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

the right of Chortens and Mani walls. This monastery was 
too far off the path for us to visit it. We soon afterwards 
passed the large and flourishing village of Galinka surrounded 
by fields of barley. Here we turned aside to visit the Galinka 
Monastery, which stood in the midst of the village. This 
was quite a new building, with a great gilt image of Buddha 
inside it. The monks were stiU busy painting pictures of 
scenes from the hf e of Buddha on the walls. They apparently 
did quite a good trade in seUhig clay images of Buddha 
in his different forms and postures. These were stamped 
by a very well cut brass die, which the monks told me had 
been made at Shigatse. In a side room was a huge prayer wheel 
some 12 feet high and 5 feet to 6 feet in diameter. It was 
covered over with painted leather inscribed with the usual 
Om Mani Padme Hum (HaU, jewel of the lotus flower). 
They told us the inside was also fiUed with prayers, and that 
it contained one and a half mfllion of these, so that each 
time the wheel was turned a million and a half prayers 
were said for the person who turned it. After each complete 
revolution it rings a bell. We were allowed to turn it several 
times, so that I hope the many miUion prayers sent up may 
benefit us. After leaving the monastery, the path rose 
steeply and the river came down in a series of waterfalls. 
Above us were masses of pink and mauve rhododendrons, 
flowermg cherries, viburnum, berberis, roses and other 
delightful shrubs. Soon afterwards, at the entrance to 
the Lingmatang plain, we crossed the river and rode up 
a rocky spur formed of great boulders that had some time 
or another fallen down and blocked up the valley, formuig 
a lake some 2 miles long, but this lake no longer existed, 
and there was only a flat grassy plain grazed over by yaks 
and ponies. On the top of the spur was the Donka Monastery 
in a grand situation, commanding beautiful views up and 
down the valley. I had hoped to see my friend the Geshe 
Lama or Geshe Rimpoche, as he is sometimes known, with 
whom I had lunched last year at the hot springs at Kambu, 
but unfortunately he was away at Lhasa. He is a man of 



THE CHUMBI VALLEY 41 

very great learning and held in high veneration throughout 
these valleys. 

On entering the big stone courtyard of the monastery 
a crowd of children and Lamas at once flocked round us. 
We were shown over the main temple, but it was badly 
lit with a few butter lamps and we could see little of its 
contents ; amongst these were several statues of Buddha 
under his different forms. There were also kept there 108 
volumes of the Tangyur, one of the Buddhist sacred writings. 
These books were very curious. Each volume consisted 
of a number of loose oblong parchment sheets 2 to 3 feet 
long and from 8 inches to a foot wide. These were kept 
together by two elaborately carved boards between which 
they were pressed; The writing was all done by hand by the 
Lamas, who copied out and illuminated books with the 
greatest care and skill in the same manner that the monks 
in the Middle Ages illuminated their missals. The book- 
shelves of the library consisted of a number of pigeon-holes 
in the walls in which these volumes were kept. Here, too, 
they were busy making clay images to bury under the Chorten 
that they were building above the monastery. Next door 
was another and newer temple, built to house the Oracle, 
and called the Sanctuary of the Oracle. He, too, was 
unfortunately away, as he was taking the hot waters at 
Kambu, but we were shown his throne and the robes that 
he puts on when he prophesies. There was a curiously 
shaped head-dress of silver, adorned all round with silver 
skulls, and a very quaintly shaped bow and arrow which 
the Oracle held in one hand while a huge trident was grasped 
in the other. I am told that he is consulted far and wide and 
has a great reputation for truth. We were then taken upstaks 
to a sunny verandah, just outside the Geshe Rimpoche's 
private room and commanding fine views up and down the 
valley. Here we were given Tibetan tea, made with salt 
and butter, and served up in agate cups with beautifully 
chased silver covers. After drinking this tea we were shown 
over the Geshe' s private apartments and chapel, the prevailing 



42 THE NAREATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

colour scheme of the room being yellow. The little shrines 
with their silver bowls in front — ^the incense burner and the 
flame that is never allowed to go out — ^were aU very interesting 
to us. We then took a photograph of the Lamas in front 
of their temple, after which the head Lama accompanied 
us some way down the path to say good-bye, hoping we 
would come and see them again on our return. 

I have aUuded several times to the hot springs at Kambu. 
These springs are two days' journey from Yatung up the 
Kambu VaUey, but can also be reached quite easUy from 
Phari. There is a curious account of these springs written 
by an old Lama and translated by Major Campbell. The 
writer describes the Upper Kambu Valley as quite a pleasant 
spot where cooling streams and medicinal plants are found 
in abundance. Medicinal waters of five kinds flow from 
the rocks, forming twelve pools, the waters of which are 
efficacious in curing the 440 diseases to which the human 
race is subject. The springs are then made to describe their 
own quaHties in the first person : — 

1. The Lhamo Spring (The Spring of the Goddess) : My virtue is 
derived from the essence of stone — I am guarded by the Goddess Tsering, 
and my virtue therefore consists in purging the sins and obscurities of 
the human body. Those who bathe first in my waters will be purged of 
all sin and the power of all diseases wiU be abated. 

2. The Chagu Spring (The Spring of the Vulture) : My virtue is derived 
from black sulphur. As regards my properties, a vulture with a broken 
wing once fell into my waters and was healed. I benefit diseases of women, 
also sores, gout and fractures. I possess particular virtue for all diseases 
below the waist. I do not benefit neuralgia, nervous diseases, or loss of 
appetite. 

3 and 4. The Pon Springs (The Springs of the Official) : We two brothers 
derive our properties from both yellow and black sulphur. One of us 
provokes catarrh, while the other aUays it. A learned man, who wished 
us well, once said that we were beneficial in cases of hemorrhoids, kidney 
diseases and rheumatism. We are not aware of possessing these qualities, 
and rather tend to cause harm in such cases. 

5. The Traggye Spring (The Spring born of the Rock) : My virtue 
is derived from a combination of sulphiu- and the essence of stone. I was 
formerly efficacious in cases of diseases of the aiteries and nerve trouble, 
but later on the Brothers of the Pon Spring rushed down on poor me like 
tyrants so that no one now regards me. The caretaker of the Springs 



THE CHUMBI VALLEY 43 

and visitors treats me like a beggar and pays no attention to me. Even 
now if some person with the permission of the Brothers of the Pon Spring 
would carry out some repairs, so as to separate my waters from theirs, I 
would guarantee to benefit those suffering from arterial diseases, nerve 
trouble, impurities of the blood and bile. 

6. The Seeka Spring (The Spring of the Crevice) : My virtues are 
derived from sulphiu: and carbon. I am not beneficial to those suffering 
from ailments arising from nerve trouble, bile and acidity. I am beneficial 
to those suffering from chapped hands and feet due to hard work among 
earth and stones and also in cases of diseases of the kidneys and bladder. 
I am somewhat hurtful to those suffering from headache arising from 
nervous catarrh, or impmities of the blood. 

7. The Tang Spring (The Spring of the Plain) : My virtues are derived 
from carbon and a little sulphur. I am beneficial in cases of hemorrhoids, 
kidney disease, rheumatism and other diseases below the waist, also in 
cases of venereal disease. There is a danger of the waist becoming bent 
like a bow through too much bathing in my waters. 

8. The Traggyab Spring (The Spring behind the Rock) : I am beneficial 
in eases of disease of the arteries and anaemia — I am not aware that I am 
harmful in other cases. 

9. The Tongbu Spring (The Spring of the Hole) : My virtues are 
derived from a large proportion of crystaUine stone and a little sulphur. 
I guarantee to be beneficial in cases of white phlegm, brown phlegm and 
other forms of phlegmatic disease. Also in diseases arising out of these, 
and in cases of impurities of the blood and coUc pains. Please bear this 
in mind. 

10. The Nub (The Western Spring) : My virtues are derived from a 
little carbon. I am beneficial in cases of liver disease, impurities of the 
blood, flatulence, kidney disease, dyspepsia, brown phlegm, tumours, gout, 
rheumatism, gleet, and comphcations arising from these. I do not boast 
in the way that the other Springs do. 

11. The Dzepo Spring (The Leper's Spring) : I am cousin to the Western 
Spring. He guarantees to cure diseases arising from two or three causes, 
also kidney disease, flat foot, rheumatism and gout. I am beneficial in 
cases of hemorrhoids, gout, rheumatism and diseases of the feet. I possess 
particular virtue in cases of leprosy, sores and wounds. 

12. The Lama Spring (The Spring of the Lama) : My virtues are 
derived from a large proportion of lime and a little sulphur. I am beneficial 
in cases of lung disease, tumours, dyspepsia, both chronic and recent, 
poverty of the blood and venereal diseases. 

Written by Tsewang in the hope that the People of 
Bhutan, Sikkim, and the surrounding country will bear this 
IN mind. 

Copied by Tenrab, clearly and exactly, from the original 
in the Male Iron Dog Year in the first half of the Earth 
Month. 



44 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

After leaving the monastery we had a pleasant gaUop 
across the Lingmatang Plain, after which the valley narrowed 
again and the path followed close beside the rushing stream. 
It was a delightful ride through forests of birch, larch, juniper, 
spruce, silver fir and mountain ash. Never anywhere have I 
seen birch trees grow to such a size. They were grand rugged 
old trees that matched the rugged scenery of the gorge. 
Blue poppies, fritUlaries, ground orchids and sweet-scented 
primulas grew along the path, and mixed up ever3rwhere 
in the forest were great bushes of R. Cinndbarinum, which 
varied in shade from yellow and orange to deep red. 
Wagtails and white-crested redstarts dodged about from rock 
to rock ill the rushing stream, and the clear note of the 
shrike could usually be heard above the noise of the waters. 
The weather had luckily kept fine aU day, so that we were 
able to dawdle along and enjoy the scenery and flowers. 

After going about 12 miles we came to the bungalow of 
Gautsa, situated at a height of about 12,000 feet, and at 
the bottom of the gorge ; here we spent the night. During 
the night there was heavy raua, and when we woke in the 
morning, fresh snow was low down on all the hiUs and within 
1,500 feet of the bungalow. However, the day again proved 
brilliantly fine. For breakfast we had been given some 
large wild-goose eggs belonging to the bar-headed goose. 
Mine I had boiled, and found excellent, though one was 
sufficient for a meal. Two that the others had were rather 
passe, and were not equally appreciated. The day's path 
was at first very stony and climbed steadily uphill beside 
the torrent of the Ammochu. Pale blue iris, yellow primulas, 
a pink vibm:num and a large yeUow-beUed lonicera grew 
beside the path, but the rhododendrons were stiU by far 
the most wonderful of the flowering shrubs. We passed 
many big blue meconopsis, and some of these flowers measured 
fuUy 3 inches across. Dwarf rhododenckons, only a foot 
high — some pure white and others pink, continued up until 
about 13,500 feet, and then the hillsides became purple 
from another little rhododendron, which looked in the 



THE CHUMBI VALLEY 45 

distance like heather and gave the rounded hills quite a 
Scotch appearance. As we rose higher the flowers decreased 
in number. Larks and wheatears ran along the ground in 
front of us, and small tailless marmot rats dodged in and out 
of their holes as we approached. The distance from Goutsa 
to Phari was about 16 miles, of which the last 8 miles were 
over flat country with a springy turf, on which it was a 
pleasure to be able to canter again after having passed 
over so many miles of stony roads. Chomolhari, the Mountain 
of the Goddess, stood up as a wonderful sight with its sharp 
peak outlined against the clear blue sky. On its summit 
the wind was evidently very strong, as we could see the 
fresh snow being whirled off in clouds. 

Phari is an extremely dirty village dominated by a stone 
fort and lying under the shadow of the great mountain 
Chomolhari, 23,930 feet high. It is 14,300 feet above sea 
level, and the climate there is always cold, as it is never 
without a strong wind. In the afternoon the Jongpen, or 
Governor of the district, came to call on me. He was a 
young man with an intelligent and pleasant face, and came 
from the country between Khamba Dzong and Shekar Dzong, 
so that he was able to give us much useful information 
about the road ; he promised that he would write to his 
brother, who was acting as agent for him at his home, telling 
him to entertain us and give us all facilities in the matters 
of transport and supphes. He told us that he had received 
written instructions from the Lhasa Government to arrange 
for supplies and transport for us, and he promised that he 
would do his best. I gave him photographs that I had 
taken last year of his fort, and also of Chomolhari ; these 
pleased him very much, and in return he presented us with 
a dried sheep which looked mummified and smelt very 
strongly, but which proved very acceptable to our coolies. 
It was necessary to stop here for several days as the second 
party had to catch up, and they too needed a day's rest. 
Also the transport that was to carry us along to Khamba 
Pzong would not be ready for several days, so the foUowing 



46 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

morning I went to call on the Jongpen in his fort, where 
I found him livmg in some very dark rooms. I presented 
him with one of the new lever electric torches, which he 
much appreciated, though at first he and his servants were 
rather frightened by it. He gave us tea and sweetmeats, 
and soon afterwards the head-men of aU the villages came 
in, and were given orders about our transport. Their quaint 
attitudes of respect and their darkly bronzed faces, that 
just showed up in the light, reminded me forcibly of an old 
Dutch picture. Some men, too, had been sent from Khamba 
Dzong for orders and to know when we should be hkely 
to arrive there. In the course of the afternoon Dr. Heron 
and I rode over to a monastery about 3 miles away where 
I had been last year, and where I had taken some photo- 
graphs. Some prints of these I brought back to the monastery, 
and the monks were very pleased with them. They were 
in the middle of a service when we arrived, as it was some 
kind of festival, and the dark temple was illuminated by 
hundreds of httle butter lamps. The monks were aU chanting 
their scriptures, and this they continued to do aU the afternoon. 
On returning to Phari, we found that a message had 
come from the Jongpen to ask us to dine with him the 
following evening. The change in the climate and the bad 
cooking had affected the stomachs of all the members of 
the Expedition, and none of us was feehng very weU. Dr. 
KeUas was the worst, and as soon as he arrived at Phari 
he retired to bed. The following morning was misty and 
the ground was aU white with hoar-frost, though it was 
the last day in May ; but as I was anxious to get some 
photographs of Chomolhari we rode, with the Chaukidar as 
a guide, through the mist across the plain to some hUls 
just to the South of the great mountain ; after a few miles 
we found ourselves above the clouds with the sun shining 
in a brilliant blue sky. The whole of the Phari Plain was 
covered by a sea of clouds. On the far side rose the Pawhunri 
group of mountains, while further to the South, Kanchen- 
junga towered above all the other peaks, such as Siniolchum, 



THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 47 

Kabru and Jonsong, all of wMch stood out very clearly 
in this brilliant atmosphere. I rode up a delightful little 
mountain valley full of dwarf rhododendrons and Alpine 
primulas until I reached a height of 16,000 feet. We then 
left the ponies and climbed on to the top of the hill, which 
was about 17,500 feet ; from this point we had glorious views 
of Chomolhari immediately across the valley, while on the 
other side we looked over to the snowy peaks and ranges 
in Bhutan far to the South of us. We found the wind very 
keen at this height, and after taking several photographs 
we rode back again to Phari. 

Here I found the place full of troubles. Our Coohe Sirdar 
was, as we were beginning to find out, not only useless, but 
very mischievous, and he was evidently at the bottom of 
an attempted mutiny among our coolies, who refused to 
go on. The Sirdar strongly objected to our interpreters, 
who were preventing him from fleecing us in the matter 
of stores and supplies. However, after much talking they 
were all satisfied. Then it was the turn of the cooks, all 
of whom the Sirdar had chosen. I should not have minded 
one or two of these going, as they were very bad cooks and 
usually drunk, and the fact that all of us had been ill was 
solely due to their bad cooking ; but I could not let them 
all go, so it was necessary to find out which were the most 
useless, and this we were able to do in the course of the next 
few days. Dr. Kellas was getting no better ; he refused to 
take any food, and was very depressed about himself. At 
Phari I was able to change a certain number of our rupees 
into Tibetan currency. The then rate of exchange was 
33 rupees to 1 sersang — a gold coin — and 4|- silver trangkas 
to 1 rupee. The trangkas were a thin and very badly stamped 
coin about the size of a two-shilling piece. We found them, 
however, to be the most useful form of currency as the gold 
coin, though much easier to carry, could only be exchanged 
at a few places, and it was seldom that we met people who 
were rich enough to be able to change them. 

That night four of us went over to have dinner with 



48 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

the Jongpen. First we were given tea and sweetmeats, 
followed by strong ginger wine, which was most comforting 
to our stomachs in their delicate condition. Then came 
dishes of mutton in varying forms with vegetables and 
macaroni. They were aU served up in Chinese fashion in 
little dishes and some were quite appetising. We were 
very late in starting the next morning as aU the loads had 
to be sorted and laid out for the very miscellaneous transport 
that had been given us. This consisted of ponies, mules, 
donkeys, bullocks and yaks. For riding-animals we were 
given mules, which trotted well and covered the ground 
quite quickly, though some of the Alpine cHmbers found 
them hard to manage and were apt to part company with 
their steeds. Our transport was by now becoming rather 
compHcated as forty-four animals were going right through 
to Khamba Dzong and forty-four were being changed at 
every stage. Dr. KeUas was not well enough to ride and 
was carried in an arm-chair all day. Soon after starting 
I passed two of our cooks on the road hopelessly drunk, 
and left them there. Our way led over the Tang La, a very 
gentle and scarcely perceptible pass, 15,200 feet, but 
important as being the main Himalayan watershed. All 
day there was a very strong South wind blowing, but it 
was luckily at our backs, and we did not feel it too much. 
We then quickly trotted the 10 miles across the absolutely 
level Tang-piin-sum Plain. Here I saw several herds of 
kiang, the wild ass of Tibet, and got within 50 yards of one 
lot, but unfortunately the cooUe who was carrying my 
camera was not up with me at the time. We also passed 
a certain number of Tibetan gazelle, but they were all very 
wary. The Monsoon clouds came up to the South of us in 
great roUing billows, but not a drop of moisture came over 
the Tang La. Chomolhari was a magnificent sight all day 
with its 7,000 feet of precipices descending sheer into the 
plain. Tuna (14,800 feet), about 20 miles from Phari, was 
our first halt. We were still on the main road to Lhasa 
and found a comfortable rest-house into which the eight of 



THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 49 

us all managed to stow ourselves. Dr. Kellas, though rather 
better the next day, was still too weak to ride, and was 
carried for the next march on a Ktter. We were now in 
the true Tibetan climate, with brilliant sunshine, blue skies, 
still mornings and strong winds all the afternoon. 

The next march from Tuna to Dochen was still on the 
Lhasa Road. I did not follow the path, but rode with a 
local man from the village over the great Tang-piin-sum 
Plain in search of goa — Tibetan gazelle. We saw many 
of them on the plains, but they were the wiKest and most 
difficult animals to approach, and in this flat and bare 
country it was not possible ever to get within 300 yards 
of them. As a rule they ran oS when we were still half 
a mile away. They are restless little creatures, always 
on the move, and never at any time an easy mark to hit. 
I thoroughly enjoyed this ride over the plains and our 
glorious views of Chomolhari and the great snow-covered 
and glaciated chain to the North of it along the foot of 
which we were travelling. A curious pink trumpet-shaped 
flower grew in great quantities on the plain ; the leaves 
were buried under the sand and only the flower showed 
its head above the ground. There were also white pin- 
cushions of a kind of tiny saxifrage. This plain, over which 
we were riding, was evidently once upon a time a lake bed, 
as the pebbles were rounded and there were distinct evidences 
of former shores along the sides of the hills. Many kiang 
were grazing on it and many thousands of sheep were being 
pastured there. As we approached the lake called Bamtso, 
the country became very marshy, and our ponies got bogged 
several times. The bungalow at Dochen was situated near 
the shores of the Bamtso. Never have I seen a lake with 
so many colours in it. It was very shallow, and the shades 
varied from deep blue and purple to light green, while in 
places it was almost red from a weed that grew in it. Behind 
it was a background of snow and glacier-covered mountains, 
which in the stiU mornings was reflected faithfuUy in its 
waters and formed a charming picture. Swimming on this 

M.E. E 



50 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

lake were many bar-headed geese and Brahminy ducks, and 
along the shores were many terns and yeUow wagtails. 

That evening an amusing thing happened in the kitchen. 
One of our cooks was heating up a tin of tinned fish and had 
put it in some hot water without previously opening it. 
When he thought it was sufficiently hot, he started to open 
it, with the result that it exploded violently, covering him 
and every one else in the kitchen with smaU pieces of fish. 
I was able then to explain to the Tibetans who were carrying 
our loads that our stores were very dangerous, and that if 
any were at any time stolen, they would be liable to explode 
and hurt them. It was, of course, the rarefied air that had 
caused this, for Dochen is at a height of 14,700 feet above 
sea level. 

Every day on from now the wind used to blow with great 
violence aU the afternoon, but would die down after sunset. 
It must have been of a local nature caused by the rapid 
changes from high temperature to low, because the clouds 
above at the same time were hardly moving. I sent back 
Dorje, one of our cooks, from this place, as it was the fourth 
time that he had been drunk, and this I hoped would be 
a lesson to the others. We now left the Lhasa Road and 
turned off Westwards, havuig henceforward to rely on our 
tents. 

From Dochen to Khe was a short march of 11 miles over 
the Dug Pass, 16,400 feet. I did not follow the road taken 
by the transport animals, but took a local guide and rode 
over the hUl-tops in search of ovis ammon. I did not see 
any, however, though we sighted two or three goa, but they 
were very wild and would not allow me to approach within 
500 yards of them. There were numbers of blue hares, 
however, and some ram chakor, the Himalayan snow cock. 
But beyond this the hillsides were very bare of game. There 
were pin-cushions of a beautiful little blue sedum growing 
at a height of over 17,000 feet, also there was a big red 
stonecrop. Khe is now only a small and dirty village with 
practically no water except a half-di'ied muddy pond, but 



THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 61 

at one time it must have been a place of some importance, 
as ruins and buUdings of considerable size extend over 
an area of more than a mile. The Kala-tso evidently at 
one time came right up to this ruined town of Khetam, 
and the fact that it is deserted now is probably due to the 
shrinkage of the lake. This was only one of the many signs 
of desiccation that we saw in our travels in Tibet. There 
were some curious ruins which looked Hke old crenellated 
walls, but these walls were only places on which barley dough 
used to be exposed to feed the crows as a sign of prosperity. 
It was a curious custom and could only have prevailed in 
a very fertUe valley, which this place is no longer. The age 
of the city I could not find out, but the few survivors told 
me that the holy shrine at Tashilumpo, which now is at 
Shigatse, ought to have been built here. According to 
a local legend, there was a certain stone in Khetam shaped 
hke a ewe's-womb, and one day a donkey driver finding 
that his loads were unequal in weight, picked up this stone 
and put it on the light load to balance the other, quite 
unaware of the importance of the stone. This stone was 
then carried from Gyantse to Shigatse, where a high and 
important Lama saw it, and recognising that this was a 
very holy stone, had it kept there. The powerful monastery 
of Tashilumpo was built over this stone. We passed two 
small nunneries called Doto and Shidag in snug httle valleys 
to the North of the plain, and on asking why there should 
be so many nunneries in these parts when in the greater 
part of Tibet men predominated, I was told that this was 
due to the fact that it was close to the Nepalese frontier 
where there had always been much fighting, so that most 
of the men had been killed and only women had survived. 
After a short and easy march we came to a small pocket 
in the hills called KJieru. Here were encamped some people 
belonging to a nomad tribe who always hved in tents. They 
were very friendly, put tents at our disposal, and did their 
best to make us comfortable. They told us that they came 
here every year in the twelfth month, about January, and 



52 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

left again in the fifth month of the Tibetan year (June) for 
a place near Tuna, where they disposed of their wool, butter 
and cheese at the Phari market. There were altogether 
about twenty families here owning some 200 yaks and 3,000 
sheep. Dr. KeUas was sHghtly better, but Raeburn was 
not feeling at all well, and Wheeler was suffering from 
indigestion, so that we were rather a sick party. Kheru 
lies at a height of 15,700 feet, but it had been very hot all 
day in the brilliant sunshine, and on the way we had passed 
Hzards and a number of common peacock butterflies. Next 
mornmg our march was to Tatsang (Falcon's Nest), a distance 
of 15 or 16 mUes, and over two passes 16,450 and 17,100 
feet. The going was easy all the way, as the gradients 
both up and down the passes were very gentle. Between 
the two passes was a broad vaUey, filled with huge flocks of 
sheep and herds of yaks, and after crossing the second pass, 
we descended into a great barren and stony plain, more 
than 10 miles across which was Tatsang and over which the 
wind blew very keenly. To the South of us appeared the 
snowy crests of Pawhunri, Kanchenjhow and Chomiomo and 
the Lhonak peaks. Again I did not keep with the transport, 
but followed the crests of the hiUs, where I had lovely views ; 
on the way I saw plenty of gazeUe, and was lucky enough 
to shoot one of them, as they are very good eating. Our 
camp at Tatsang was pitched just below the nunnery there, 
which is on the top of a rock and where there are about 
thirty nuns. Our camp was on a pleasant grassy spot where 
some excellent springs bubble up out of the ground. These 
within a few yards formed quite a big stream fuU of small 
snow trout. They do not reaUy belong to the trout family, 
although they have somewhat similar spots, and are very 
good to eat. Bullock, with his butterfly net, and the coolies 
with their hands, managed to catch quite a number of fish, 
and we had them for dinner that night. The ground round 
our tents was fuU of holes out of which the marmot rats 
kept appearing. They were very tame, and did not seem 
to be in the least afraid of us. Dr. Kellas had had a very 



THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 53 

trying day. He had been rather better, and had started 
riding a yak, but he found this too exhausting and coohes 
had to be sent back from Tatsang to bring him on in a htter, 
so that he did not arrive at Tatsang till late in the evening. 
Tatsang is 16,000 feet, so the night was cold, the thermo- 
meter inside the tent registering 7° of frost, though it was 
June 4 ; outside there must have been quite 15° as the 
running streams were all frozen over, but once the sun had 
risen everything warmed up and we had a beautiful warm 
day. Dr. Kellas started off in his Htter at 7 a.m. in quite 
good spirits. I did not start tUl an hour later, as I had 
wanted to see everything off, and then went up to visit 
the nunnery, over which the lady abbess showed me. There 
were thirty nuns living there, all with shorn heads and 
wearing a curious wool head-dress. The place where they 
worshipped was full of prayer wheels, both large and small. 
They sat down behind these, and each nun turned one or 
two of them if they could manage it. The room was very 
dark, with a low ceiling, and at the end were several statues 
of Buddha covered over with gauze veils. In another room 
there was a large prayer wheel which they said contained 
half a milhon prayers. 

After leaving the nunnery we jogged along a dry and 
barren valley which gradually rose in about 12 mUes to 
a pass 17,200 feet. On the way we passed Dr. Kellas in 
his Utter, who then seemed to me to be stUl quite cheerful. 
I then rode on and at the top of the pass saw three ovis 
ammon, and after a chase of about a mUe I shot one, which 
afforded plenty of food for the coolies for some days. It 
was a fuU grown ram about five years old and we had great 
trouble in getting the carcass on to a mule, as it was enormous 
and very heavy. After this I rode on down the valley for 
another 10 miles to Khamba Dzong. There were actually 
a few bushes in this valley, which was carpeted with the 
pretty pink trumpet-shaped flower mentioned above, also 
with Hght and dark blue iris. Suddenly the valley narrowed 
into a fine Umestone gorge, and aU at once the fort of Khamba 



54 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

Dzong appeared towering above us on the cliffs. It was 
reaUy a very impressive sight and some of the architecture 
of the round towers was very fine. I found that Morshead 
had been waiting here for about nine days, but had employed 
his time in fixing the old triangulation points. Soon after 
I arrived the Jongpen came down to j)ay us a visit. He 
was quite a young fellow, only about twenty-four, but very 
pleasant and polite. 

While we were talking, a man came running up to us 
very excitedly to say that Dr. Kellas had suddenly died on 
the way. We could hardly beheve this, as he was apparently 
gradually getting better ; but WoUaston at once rode off 
to see if it was true, and unfortunately found that there 
was no doubt about it. It was a case of sudden failure of 
the heart, due to his weak condition, whUe being carried over 
the high pass. His death meant a very great loss to the 
Expedition in every way, as he alone was quahfied to carry 
out the experiments in oxygen and blood pressure which 
would have been so valuable to the Expedition, and on 
which subject he was so great an expert. His very keenness 
had been the cause of his iUness, for he had tried his 
constitution too severely in the early months of that year 
by expeditions into the heart of the Himalayas to see if he 
could get fresh photographs from other angles of Mount 
Everest. The following day we buried him on the slopes of 
the hill to the South of Khamba Dzong, in a site unsurpassed 
for beauty that looks across the broad plains of Tibet to 
the mighty chain of the Himalayas out of which rise up 
the three great peaks of Pawhunri, Kanchenjhow and 
Chomiomo, which he alone had climbed. Erom the same 
spot, far away to the West — more than a hundred miles 
away — could be seen the snowy crest of Mount Everest 
towering far above aU the other mountains. He lies, 
therefore, within sight of his greatest feats in climbing and 
within view of the mountain that he had longed for so 
many years to approach — a fitting resting-place for a great 
mountaineer. 




Kami'A Dzon( 



CHAPTER III 

FROM KHAMBA DZONG THROUGH UNKNOWN 
COUNTRY TO TINGRI 

Our camp at Khamba Dzong* was pitched in a walled 
enclosure at the foot of the fort, built on a great crag that 
rose 500 feet sheer above us. They called this enclosure a 
Bagichah, or garden, because it once boasted of three willow 
trees. Only one of these three is alive to-day, the other 
two being merely dead stumps of wood. The Jongpen here, 
who was under the direct orders of Shigatse, was very friendly, 
and after our arrival presented us with five live sheep, a 
hundred eggs, and a small carpet which he had had made 
in his own factory in the fort. Next afternoon Morshead, 
Wollaston and myself went up to pay the Jongpen a visit 
ia his fort. It was a steep climb from our camp, past long 
Mendongs or Mani walls covered with inscribed prayers. 
The Jongpen was at the entrance waiting to receive us. 
He then showed us over his stables, where he had several 
nice Tibetan ponies, which strongly objected to Europeans 
and lashed out fiercely as we approached them. After 
looking at them we went up many flights of most dangerously 
steep stairs, almost in pitch darkness the whole time, until 
we came to a small courtyard. Then after climbing up 
more steps, we were ushered into a small latticed room 
where we were given the usual Tibetan tea and sweetmeats. 
I presented the Jongpen with one of the new lever electric 
torches, with which he was much pleased, saying it would 
be of much use to him in going up and down his dark 
staircases. After tea he took us up on to the roof of the 
fort, which was quite flat, and from which we had a most 
magniflcent view. We stood on the top of a great precipice 

* Dzong means fort. 
55 



56 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

and looked straight down at our camp, which lay many 
hundred feet below but almost within a stone's throw. From 
here too we could look across the wide plains and vaUeys 
of the Yaru and its tributaries to the main chain of the 
Himalayas which formed the Southern boundary to the 
picture. From this side they do not appear nearly as 
imposing as they do when seen from the South. Seen as 
they are from a height of over 15,000 feet, the distance to 
the sky Hne is not nearly so great, and as a rule we found 
the Northern slopes to be much less steep than those on 
the Southern side. The snow hne, too, was also several 
thousand feet higher. Every day great masses of moist 
cumulus clouds came roUing up and round the peaks to the 
South of us, indicating heavy falls of rain and snow on the 
South, but very httle of this came over the watershed — 
only an occasional shght hailstorm or a few drops of rain. 
From this point we could see as far West as Mount Everest, 
stiU over a hundred miles away. After spending some time 
up there and admiring and discussing the view, we descended 
once more into the fort, where the Jongpen showed us some 
of the carpets that his womenfolk were busy making and 
promised to have some ready for us by the time that we 
came back. We also much admired the curious old locks 
by which the doors and boxes were fastened ; before leaving, 
he made me a present of one of these locks. 

June 7 saw us still at Khamba Dzong, as the transport 
woidd not be ready till the following day. Raeburn, who 
for some time had been suffering from the same complaint 
as Dr. Kellas, was unfortunately getting no better and was 
getting weaker every day. We were therefore reluctantly 
compelled to send him back again into Sikkim to Lachen, 
where he could be taken charge of by the lady missionaries 
and properly looked after. WoUaston and Gyalzen Kazi 
were to accompany him down to Lachen, and if possible to 
rejoin us by the time that we got to Tingri. This break-up 
of our chmbuig party was most annoying and seriously 
weakened our party, obhging us to alter our plans for 



FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 57 

reconnoitring in a thorough manner the various approaches 
to Mount Everest. The following day, after a good deal 
of delay and argument about the loads, we got everything 
loaded up and started oS for Lingga, a march of about 16 
miles to the West. For the first few miles we rode across a 
great plain on which were several small herds of goa, but 
these were very wary and kept well out of shot. The path 
then took us alongside a smaU isolated rocky hUl in which 
we kept putting up numerous hares who often got up right 
under our ponies' feet. We crossed the Yaru River, now 
only a small stream, at the picturesque village of Mende 
with its fine wiUow trees, and then after passing over a spur, 
formed of slaty rock, we descended into another great plain 
which extended aU the way to Tingri. Five miles across this 
plain was the village of Lingga, surrounded by marshes and 
ponds, with barley fields and rich grass growing between 
the patches of water. There were several other villages in 
sight, so that the plain was evidently fertile and could support 
a considerable population. This was the first place where 
we became bothered by sand files, which in the morning 
were very troublesome ; but when the wind got up, as it 
always did in the afternoons, it blew them away, and for 
once was welcome. The villagers were very hospitable ; 
they produced tea and beer brewed from barley for us as 
soon as we arrived there. The latter is quite a pleasant 
drink on a hot day, but it did not agree with my inside at 
all. The people here had never seen a European before, 
and though at first inclined to be rather shy, they soon 
became very friendly and curious. Some pieces of silver 
paper from chocolates quite won the hearts of the children 
who flocked around and did not in the least mind being 
photographed. To the South extended the chain of snows 
of the main range of the Himalayas, and on the way we 
had several clear and distinct views of Mount Everest. 
Morshead, who had left the day before, was camped at a 
smaU monastery a few miles to the North of us in order to 
follow the crest of the ridge of hQls and to survey both sides. 



58 THE NAERATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

but was to join us again at Tinki. The weather now was 
really dehghtful, though to the South of us we still saw 
heavy clouds which brought showers of snow as far as the 
mountains, but they did not reach us. 

From here to Tinki was about 13 miles over a perfectly 
level plain. The midges or sand flies were very troublesome 
the whole way and came in hundreds round one's head, got 
inside one's topee, and were thoroughly objectionable. The 
plain appeared very fertile, as there seemed to be plenty of 
water and great herds of yaks and flocks of sheep were 
grazing upon it. In the marshes and ponds were many 
bar-headed geese, Brahminy ducks, mallard and teal. After 
the rains, it is evident that a great part of this plain is under 
water. About a couple of miles from Tinki we crossed some 
curious sand dunes, about 20 feet high, which are evidently 
on the move, and soon afterwards the Jongpen of Tinld 
came riding out to meet us with a few mounted followers, 
he himself riding a fine white pony. He was very Chinese 
in appearance, wearing finely embroidered silks with a 
Chinese hat and a long pigtail, and his manners were 
excellent. He escorted us to the place where our camp 
was to be, and had had three or four tents already pitched for 
us. Tea and country beer were at once served, and we 
rested in the shade of his Chinese tents until our transport 
arrived. 

We were encamped in a very picturesque spot beside a 
large pond that was fuU of bar-headed geese, Brahminy 
ducks and terns. On the opposite side of this pond rose 
the walls and towers of the fort of Tinki. As soon as we had 
settled down, the Jongpen came again to pay us a formal 
visit, presented us with four sheep and a couple of hundred 
eggs and promised to do everything he could to help us and 
to forward us on our way. Half a mile above us was a large 
village and a big monastery belonging to the YeUow Sect of 
Buddliists who also owned a fine grove of willows. The 
bottom of the valley was all covered with barley fields, now 
a tender green and coming up weU. As the fresh transport 




TiN'KI DZONO. 



FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 59 

had not arrived, we had to spend the following day there. This 
gave an opportunity for Abdul Jalil, our photographic 
assistant, to rejoin us. We had sent him back to Phari 
in order to change some more rupees into Tibetan currency, 
as we found that Indian notes or rupees were not accepted 
any further to the West. Abdul Jalil had been very nervous 
about travelling with so much money and had borrowed a 
revolver and a rifle from members of the Expedition besides 
two large Tibetan swords and a dagger which he obtained 
from the Jongpen. In the morning, with BuUock, I went 
to return the call of the Jongpen. His fort at the time was 
under repair, so he was living in a small house outside the 
main building. He was very ai^able and gave us tea : we 
were then able to make all the arrangements for transport 
except the actual fixing of the price. For this he said he 
would have to consult his head-men. Just as we were about 
to leave he insisted on our eating the large meal which he 
had had prepared for us. He gave us small dishes of excellent 
macaroni and mince, seasoned up with chillies and very 
well cooked — much better than anything our cooks could 
produce. This we had to eat with chopsticks — a somewhat 
difficult proceeding, as we were not yet used to them. Later 
on, however, after much practice, we found no difficulty in 
consuming the numerous bowls of this excellent dish that 
the Tibetans always set before one. The Jongpen told us 
that he had been twenty-nine years in Government service, 
and he was expecting to have a better post than this shortly. 
His health was poor and he said he had been suffering much 
from indigestion, so I gave him some pills and tabloids, for 
which he was very grateful. On the return journey, he 
told me that he had greatly benefited by my treatment. 
The bar-headed geese and the wild duck here were 
extraordinarily tame, allowing us to approach within five 
yards of them and showing no signs of fear. They would 
come and waddle round our tents, picking up any scraps 
of food. The Jongpen had begged us not to shoot or kill 
any of them, as he said a Lama had been sent specially 



60 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

from Lhasa some years ago in order to tame the creatures, 
and certainly the resxdt was extraordinary ; it was most 
interesting to watch these birds, ordinarily so wild, from 
so close a distance. In the evening the Jongpen came over 
to see us again, and after a good hour's bargaining over the 
price of the transport, we finally reached a reasonable and 
amicable agreement. Every evening, to the South of us, 
there were constant flashes of hghtning aU along the horizon. 
In the morning I woke up to the iinusual sound of drops 
of rain, but this only lasted for five minutes and then cleared 
up, though the sky remained clouded all the morning. There 
was the usual fighting and confusion about the loads, each 
person trying to get the Ughtest loads for his own animal. 
The result was that there was much talking and fighting, 
and nothing was actually done until some head-man would 
come and take control and decide the dispute. The method 
of adjudication was as follows : — From each of the famihes 
who were regarded as responsible for the supply of a transport 
animal was taken one of the embroidered garters by which 
the man's felt boots are kept in their place. These garters 
were shuffled, as one might shuffle a pack of cards, after 
which a single garter was laid upon each load. The family 
to which the garter belonged thereupon became responsible 
for that load and had to pack it upon the animal's back. 
Although we had only ninety animals, there were forty-five 
different families supplying them. 

The march from Tinki to Chushar Nango was about 14 
miles and was up the valley behind Tinki to the Tinki Pass. 
On the way we passed well-irrigated fields of barley and 
then cHmbed up a spur covered with a small yellow cistus. 
After this a long gentle puU brought us to the top of the 
pass, 17,100 feet. There was a very fine view from here 
to the East looking over Tinki and Khamba Dzong and along 
the Northern slopes of the Himalayas. I chmbed up a hill 
about 600 feet above the pass, whence I had a more extensive 
view still. I could see far away to the East to Chomolhari, 
while in the foreground was the large and picturesque lake 



FEOM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 61 

called Tsomotretung backed by the rugged chain of peaks 
that separated us from the valley of the Brahmaputra. 
To the West we looked down into the valley of the Yaru, 
which flowed gently through a broad and flat valley. To the 
South-west was a range of sharp granite peaks rising up to 
22,000 feet, which ran North and South and forced the 
Yaru to flow round them before it could find its way into 
Nepal. The descent from the pass was much steeper. We 
passed many of our old friends the pink trumpet-shaped 
flowers, also a curious white and pink flower, rather like a 
daphne in shape, and smelling very sweetly, which grew in 
masses along the path. It was evidently poisonous as no 
animal would touch it. I picked some flowers of it and 
put them in my buttonhole, but was warned by the Tibetans 
not to do so, as they said it was poisonous and would give 
me a headache. Lower down the valley was full of small 
dwarf gorse bushes — 1 foot to 18 inches high — ^which carpeted 
the ground. Everjrwhere were flocks of sheep and cattle 
grazing in the valley. Our camp was pitched on a grassy 
flat just below the vfllage of Chushar Nango with its fine 
old runied tower of stone with machicolated galleries all 
round it. To the South of us was the Nila Pass, which 
afforded an easy way into Nepal. The chmate here was 
fairly warm, but the wind blew very strongly all that evening. 
Next day we saw the mountains all covered with fresh snow 
down to 16,000 feet, but we only experienced a slight drizzle 
as most of the snowfiakes evaporated before they reached 
the ground, though clouds remained overhead all the morning. 
Morshead and his surveyors had been kept very busy up tUl 
now surveying and plotting in the intervening country from 
the tops of the hills, but owing to the clouds they were 
unable to do anything. We were all very late in starting, 
as our transport animals had been changed and the yaks 
that were supphed to us were very wild. In the first few 
minutes after starting we saw the plain strewn with our 
kits and stores, and yaks careering off in every direction 
with their tails in the air. 



62 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

The march, to Gyangkar Nangpa to-day was only a short 
one and led across a wide plain through which flowed the 
muddy and sluggish waters of the Yaru. The existing maps 
of this country were quite misleading and we could no longer 
depend on them. The rivers flowed in opposite directions 
to those shown on the map and mountains were shown 
where there were none. After about 2 or 3 miles, we had 
to ford the river, which was about 80 yards wide and not 
quite 3 feet deep. We then rode on across the plain, which 
was in some parts sandy and in others muddy or gravelly ; 
evidently during the rainy season a shallow lake. In places 
the dwarf gorse grew on it. The sandy tracks were covered 
with curious hillocks 5 to 6 feet in height formed by the 
drifting sand and the gorse bushes. These in order to keep 
alive were compelled to push their branches through the 
sand which in its turn became piled up around them. 
Towards the West end of the plain were marshes and shallow 
lakes around which we had to make big detours. 

Gyangkar Nangpa, which was our destination, was the 
country residence of the Phari Jongpen. His brother, who 
was acting as agent for him, rode out to meet us and escorted 
us to his house, a fine solid stone building dommating aU 
the small houses. The tops of the walls were covered with 
gorse and juniper, rather suggestive of Christmas decorations. 
Tents were pitched for us in a grass paddock close to a grove 
of wiUows. We were then conducted upstairs into a pleasant 
room where were some fine gilt Chinese cabinets and some 
good Chinese rugs. Here the Jongpen had a meal prepared 
for us. We were first given tea, milk and beer, after which 
some fifteen dumplings apiece, each as big as a small apple, 
were put down in front of us together with three other bowls. 
In one of these was a black Chinese sauce, m. another a chfiHe 
paste, and a third contained a barley soup. We were then 
given chopsticks with which we were expected to convey 
the dumplings into the barley soup, break them up there, 
season them with the various sauces, and then convey them 
to our mouths — a not too easy feat. This meal was so 



FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 63 

satisfying that we felt that we did not want to eat anything 
for a long time afterwards. We were told that in the rainy 
season the river here was unfordable, as it rose several feet 
and flooded over the plains, and it was then necessary to 
keep to the North or to the South of it. In the evening 
the agent came to make an official call and presented us 
with a sheep and a number of eggs. We invited him to 
dinner and gave him his first taste of such European cooking 
as could be provided by our native cooks. 

There was a slight frost during the night, but the day 
turned out very fine. Our host accompanied us to the village 
of Rongkong, one of the villages belonging to his brother, 
and here he said good-bye to us. The day's march was 
uninteresting. We followed along the left bank of the 
Yaru past well-irrigated barley fields, for there was any 
amount of water here, until the valley narrowed and the 
sides came down steeper, when it became covered with 
gorse bushes. This valley we descended for about 10 miles 
until it debouched into another, a broader sandy valley 
where the Yaru changed its course to the South. We forded 
it at a point where it was about 90 yards wide and 3J feet 
deep, and we then sat down and waited for our transport 
to come up. Beyond us lay a wide sandy valley through 
which a stream flowed sometimes on the surface, but more 
often underground, when it formed dangerous quicksands. 
When the transport came up, our drivers were very anxious 
to cross immediately, as there was a strong wind blowing 
and a violent sandstorm. They said that it would be much 
safer to cross now that all the fresh sand had blown over 
the wet sand. In the morning, they said, after a stiU night, 
it was very dangerous, so following their advice we started 
off, every one dressed up as though for a gas attack, 
with goggles over the eyes and comforters or handkerchiefs 
tied over the mouth and nose to keep the sand out. At 
first we wound our way through big sand dunes, off which 
the sand was blowing like smoke. Under one of these sand 
dunes we found our coolies halted and lost. Some of the 



64 THE NARRATIVE OP THE EXPEDITION 

donkeys, too, had been unloaded here, as they could not 
find their way across in the sandstorm. After leaving the 
dunes, there were wide stretches of wet sand to cross, over 
which the dried sand from the dunes was being blown hke 
long wisps of smoke so that the whole ground appeared to 
be moving. In places where the wet sand shook and quivered 
we galloped along. Eventually we and our transport arrived 
on the far side of the plain in safety. It was now too late, 
however, to go on any further, so we camped on the dunes 
near the quicksands in the teeth of the gale. The sand was 
being whirled up on to us and into our tents until everything 
and every one was full of sand. Water was handy, but 
yak dung, our only fuel, was scarce and scanty. 

Just before dark a very beautiful and lofty peak appeared 
to the Southwards. Our drivers called it Chomo Uri (The 
Goddess of the Turquoise Peak) and we had many 
discussions as to what mountain this was. In the morning, 
after taking its bearings carefully, we decided that this 
could be no other than Mount Everest. We found out 
afterwards that the name, Chomo Uri, was purely a local 
name for the mountain. Throughout Tibet it was known 
as Chomo-lungma — Goddess Mother of the Country — and 
this is its proper Tibetan name. 

Next morning, after an uncomfortable and windy night, 
we rode for several miles across a plain covered with sand 
dunes 20 feet or more in height. On reaching the entrance 
to the vaUey of Bhong-chu, I determined to separate myseU 
from the main party in order to explore a peak which attracted 
my attention on the North side of the valley and seemed to 
promise good views of Momit Everest and its siuToundings. 
After a climb of some 3,000 feet, I found myself on a spur 
from which I had a very wonderful view. The view extended 
to the East from beyond Chomolhari — over 120 miles away 
— and embraced practically all the high snow peaks from 
Chomolhari to Gosainthan, a distance of some 250 miles. 
In the centre Mount Everest stood up all by itself, a wonderful 
peak towering above its neighbours and entirely without a 



FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 65 

rival. I spent four or five hours at the top of this hill, basking 
in the sun, as it was delightfully hot. I saw several swaUow- 
tailed butterflies, also a number of bees, wasps and horse 
flies. Major Morshead and his surveyors soon afterwards 
joined us, intending to take advantage of the fine view. 
In the afternoon I left the peak and descended into the valley 
in search of our new camp, for we had now left the Yaru and 
had turned up into the valley of the Bhong-chu, a river that 
flowed from the West, with a very considerable volume of 
water. As there was rinderpest in the valley, our transport 
consisted now of donkeys only, many of them being very 
diminutive in size, but quite accustomed to carrying heavy 
loads. Our camp was pitched at a place called Trangso 
Chumbab, where there was an old Chinese rest-house. The 
Bhong-chu here was nearly 200 yards in width, but there 
was quite a good ford across it to Tsogo. Here we found 
many flourishing villages and much cultivation. We seemed 
to be entering a much more populated part of the country ; 
from the top of the hill I counted in one valley no less than 
fifteen villages and quite a number of wfllow groves. From 
here a longish march of 18 miles up the valley of the Bhong-ohu 
brought us to Kjdshong — a pretty little village on the banks 
of the river. There were a few willow trees here and a lot 
of sea buckthorn. I did not keep to the road, but started 
early across a big plain on which I was lucky enough to 
shoot a goa with quite good horns. The day was very hot 
and sultry, and after crossing the plain I went up a side 
valley which turned out to be extremely pretty. It was 
very narrow and a mass of wild rose bushes. These roses 
were aU of a creamy yellow, and every bush was covered 
with hundreds of sweet-smeUing flowers. There was also a 
curious black clematis and several species of broom and 
rock cistus. Here and there were grassy patches with 
bubbhng springs of crystal clearness. Rock pigeons, 
Brahminy ducks, blackbirds and numerous other varieties 
of smaU birds came down to drink here and did not mind us 
at all. About two o'clock the weather suddenly changed 



66 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

and violent thunderstorms started aU round us, first on the 
opposite side of the valley and then on every side. Heavy 
hail came down at the same time and the ground soon became 
white. On descending into the valley, I put up what was 
to me a new kind of partridge, also numerous mountain 
hares. On emerging into the main valley, I noticed a group 
of five large Chortens. I was told that the centre Chorten 
had been built over a very bad demon, and that it kept 
him down. The other four Chortens at the corners prevented 
his ever getting away. 

The next day's march to Shekar Dzong was a short one 
of only 12 miles. We followed the main vaUey for about 
6 miles through some interesting conglomerate gorges 
alternating with open spaces covered with sea buckthorn. 
We then turned ofi Northwards up a side vaUey which led 
us to the town and fort of Shekar. This place was very 
finely situated on a big rocky and sharp-pointed mountain 
Uke an enlarged St. Michael's Mount. The actual town 
stands at the foot of the hill, but a large monastery, holding 
over 400 monks and consistmg of innumerable buildings, is 
hteraUy perched half-way up the cKff. The buildings are 
connected by walls and towers with the fort, which rises 
above them aU. The fort agaia is connected by turreted 
walls with a curious Gothic-Mke structure on the summit of 
the hUl where incense is offered up daily. On our arrival 
the whole town turned out and surrounded us with much 
curiosity, for we were the first Europeans that they had ever 
seen. A small tent had been pitched for us, but there was 
such a crowd round it that I retreated to a willow grove 
close by, which was protected by a wall. As the Jongpen 
had not come to see us, Chheten Wangdi went over to find 
him ; presently he came along with a basket of eggs and 
with many apologies for not coming before, but he said that 
he had had no warning of our arrival. This was but partly 
true, for though our passport did not particularly mention 
this place, it authorised all officials to help us to theu' utmost, 
and the Jongpen certainly knew and had heard that we 



FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 67 

were coining, I asked him to give orders that no intoxicating 
spirits should be served out to our followers, remembering 
the trouble we had had in one or two places before owing to 
their all getting drunk. Our tents were all pitched inside 
an enclosure and in the shade of the willow grove, and above 
us towered the picturesque buildings of the fort and the 
monastery. This was by far the largest and most interesting 
place that we had yet come across. For our mess tent we were 
given a fine Chinese tent such as they always seem to keep for 
the entertainment of guests of honour. As in most places, there 
were two Jongpens residing here, one lay and the other 
ecclesiastical, and finding that Tingri was under their jurisdic- 
tion, we asked them to issue orders to their representatives 
at Tingri to help us in every way with supphes and transport. 
June 17 we spent resting at Shekar. In the morning 
Morshead and I went to call on the Jongpen ; he Uves in 
a poor house at the foot of the hill, his official residence 
being three-quarters of the way up, but he wisely prefers 
to hve at the bottom, not being very fond of exercise. He 
was busy adding on to his house, and we were shown into 
the old part in which he was living. He gave us the usual 
Tibetan tea and sweetmeats and then insisted on our having 
macaroni and meat seasoned with chiUies, which was 
excellent, followed by junket served in china bowls. He 
had some very fine teacups of agate and hornblende schist 
with finely chased silver covers, which I admired very much. 
That afternoon several of us went up to visit the big monas- 
tery of Shekar Cho-te, This consisted of a great number 
of buildings terraced one above the other on a very steep 
rocky slope. A path along the face of the rock brought 
us to several archways under which we passed. We then 
had to go up and down some pictiiresque but very steep and 
narrow streets until we came to a large courtyard. On 
one side of this was the main temple. In this temple were 
several gUt statues of Buddha decorated aU over with 
turquoises and other precious stones, and behind them 
a huge figure of Buddha quite 50 feet high. Every year. 



68 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

they told us, they had to re-gild his face. Around were 
eight curious figures about 10 feet high and dressed in quaint 
flounces which they said were the guardians of the shrine. 
We then went up steep and slippery ladders, in almost 
pitch darkness, and came out on a platform opposite the 
face of the great Buddha. Here were some beautifully 
chased silver teapots and other interesting pieces of silver, 
richly decorated in relief. Inside the shrine, which was 
very dark, the smell of rancid butter was almost overpowering 
as aU the lamps burnt butter. The official head of the 
monastery showed us round. He was apparently appointed 
from Lhasa and was responsible for aU the revenues and 
financial dealings of the monastery. We were given very 
buttery tea in the roof courtyard, which was a pleasant 
spot, and here I photographed a group of several monks. 
They had never seen a camera or photographs before, but 
they had heard that such a thing was possible and were 
very much interested in it. Before leaving we went in to 
see the Head Lama who had Hved over sixty-six years in 
this monastery. He was looked upon as being extremely 
holy and as the re-incarnation of a former abbot, and they 
therefore practically worshipped him. There was only one 
tooth left in his mouth, but for all that he had a very pleasant 
smile. All around his room were silver-gilt Chortens inlaid 
with turquoises and precious stones and incense was being 
burnt everjrvrhere. After much persuasion the other monks 
induced him to come outside and have his photograph 
taken, telling him that he was an old man, and that his 
time on earth was now short, and they would like to have 
a picture of him to remember him by. He was accordingly 
brought out, dressed up in robes of beautiful golden brocades, 
with priceless silk Chinese hangings arranged beliuid him 
while he sat on a raised dais with his dorje and his beU in 
front of him, placed upon a finely carved Chinese table. The 
fame of this photograph spread throughout the country 
and in places hundreds of miles away I was asked for photo- 
graphs of the Old Abbot of Shekar Cho-te, nor could I give 




The Abbot of Shekak Chote. 



FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 69 

a more welcome present at any house than a photograph 
of the Old Abbot. Being looked upon as a saint, he was 
worshipped, and they would put these little photographs 
in shrines and burn incense in front of them. 

About midnight that night I was suddenly awakened 
by yells and loud shouting and hammering close to my 
tent and next to that in which Bullock and Mallory were 
sleeping. The latter turned out and found that a Tibetan 
had seized an ice axe and a mallet and was busy hammering 
on our store boxes. He gave chase, but failed to catch 
the intruder. Some of our cooKes, however, found out 
where he had gone to, and Chheten Wangdi had him handed 
over to the Jongpen. On investigation in the morning the 
man proved to be a madman whom his parents always kept 
locked up during nights when the moon was full, but he had 
managed to escape, so we handed him back to his family. 

Our transport was very slow in arriving, and there were 
so many delays that it was midday before the procession 
finally moved off. The loads, too, were very badly put on 
and kept falling off, also the transport was quite the worst 
that we had yet had. For about 5 miles the path went 
up and down hiU and through much sand until we came 
to the bridge over the Bhong-chu. This bridge consisted of 
four or five stout pillars of loose stones which acted as piers, 
on which were laid a few pieces of wood, on which flat stones 
were placed. It was a rough form of bridge, but served 
at ordinary times for its purpose. During the course of 
this summer, however, after heavy rain, these piers so 
dammed up the water as to cause it to rise some 4 or 5 feet 
on the upper side of them with the result that the immense 
weight of water swept the whole bridge away. BuUock 
and Mallory with half a dozen coolies had left early in the 
morning, intending to bivouac out for a couple of nights 
and climb one of the hills to the South of the Bhong-chu 
in order to get a view of Mount Everest. After we had gone 
about 5 miles we met them close to the bridge, as they had 
lost their way and had been walking for about 15 miles : 



70 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

not having found the bridge, they had forded the river 
and had got wet up to their necks in crossing it. At dusk 
we reached the village of Tsakor, where we found a tent 
pitched for us, and here we spent the night. Our transport 
did not turn up tiU nearly nine o'clock, and so we aU slept 
in the mess tent. From here to Tingri was stiU another 
20 miles — ^tlie path following the right bank of the Bhong-chu 
the whole way. In places the river was as much as 200 
yards wide and flowed very sluggishly. We were told that 
the waters were very low, but that next month, when the 
rains had broken, the river often fiUed the whole of the 
bottom of the vaUey. On the way we passed some very 
handsome black-necked cranes as large as the Saurus crane. 
These had black heads and bills, with red eyes, Light grey 
bodies and black tails with fine feathers. On this march 
the midges were dreadfully annoying the whole way, and we 
were surrounded with clouds of them the whole time. Their 
bite was very tiresome and extremely irritating. On the 
way we passed a Mongolian who had taken eleven months 
in coming from Lhasa and who was on his way to Nepal. 
His method of progression was by throwing himself at full 
length down on the ground. He then got up and at the spot 
where his hands touched the ground repeated the motion 
again. As we approached Tingri, the valley widened out 
and bent round to the South. Tingri itself was situated 
on the side of a small hUl in the middle of a great plain, 
from which, looking to the South, was visible the wonderful 
chain of snowy peaks, many of them over 25,000 feet in 
height, which extends Westwards from Mount Everest. We 
crossed the Ra-chu — a tributary of the Bhong-chii, partly by 
bridges and partly by fords ; it was split up into a number 
of small and very muddy channels that took their rise from 
the Kyetrak Glacier. Tingri was to be our first base for 
reconnoitring the Northern and North-western approaches 
to Mount Everest. It was June 19 when we arrived there, 
so that it had taken us just a month's travelling from 
Darjeehng to perform this part of our journey. 



CHAPTER IV 

TINGRI AND THE COUNTRY TO THE SOUTH 

Tingri is a place of some importance, with a considerable 
trade at certain seasons of the year. It is the last place 
of any size on this side of the Nepalese frontier and boasts 
of a military governor. The garrison, however, when we 
visited it, consisted only of a sergeant and four or five 
soldiers. There were about three hundred houses in Tingri, 
all clustered together on the slopes of a small isolated hill 
standing in the middle of the great plain. On the top of 
the hUl was the old Chinese fort, now all' falling into 
ruin, but stiU littered with papers and books, written in 
Chinese characters, left behind by the Chinese on their hasty 
departure. Inside were quaint mural frescoes of curious old 
men riding stags or winged dragons painted in many colours. 
All the way up the valley of the Bhong-chu we had seen ruins 
of walls and evidences of much fighting. These all dated 
back, we were told, to the time of the Nepalese invasions 
of Tibet in the eighteenth century when the Gurkhas pene- 
trated so far into Tibet that they actually got to Shigatse, 
and the Tibetans had to call upon the Chinese Empire for 
help. The Chinese came into the country with a large 
army, defeated the Gurkhas, drove them out of Tibet and 
crossed the Himalayas with a considerable army into Nepal, 
an extraordinary military feat considering the enormous 
difficulty of moving an army in these unhospitable regions 
over the high mountain passes through which it is approached. 
The Chinese, after this, never left Tibet until they were 
driven out by the Tibetans only a few years ago. In the hiUs 
round Tingri we came across many evidences of the fighting 
which then took place. This probably accounted for the 

71 



72 THE NARRATIVE OF THR EXPEDITION 

large number of ruined and deserted villages that we saw 
in the valleys around. At the foot of the hill was a large 
Chinese rest-house which was only used to house Tibetan 
officials when they came there on duty. The Tibetans 
themselves did not hke to live in or use the place, as many 
Chinese had died there and they thought that their ghosts 
haunted the spot. This rest-house was, however, swept 
out and prepared for our reception, as we had told the 
Tibetans that we should probably stay there for some time 
and should want a house to protect us from the wind and 
to provide a dark room for developing our photographs. 
The rest-house consisted of three courtyards ; in the outer 
one we put the coolies, in the middle one the surveyors, 
and the inner one we kept for ourselves. In appearance 
the building was quite picturesque with its mural paint- 
ings of flying dogs and fierce dragons ; but in spite of 
its picturesqueness outside and its handsome appearance, the 
rooms inside were small, and when the rain came it poured 
through the roof and our beds had to be shifted many times 
during the night to avoid the drips of water. It however 
provided an excellent dark room for us after we had well 
plastered the walls, the floor and the ceiling with mud and 
got rid of the dust of ages. To do any photographic work 
in Tibet a house is a necessity, as with the violent wind 
that blows every day aU one's belongings get covered with 
dust which would ruin any negative. At first we found 
water a great difficulty as the local water was full of mud, 
but we eventually discovered a beautifully clear spring, 
about half a mile away, which bubbled up in a deep bluey 
green basin, and this water we used always, both for drinking 
and for photographic work. Tingri had many advantages 
as a base. Stores, supplies and transport were always 
available there, as it was the headquarters of the district. 
It also provided an easy means of approach to Mount 
Everest from the North-west and to the high group of 
mountains that lay to the West of Mount Everest. After 
sorting out all our stores and equipment and seeing in 



TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 73 

what state they were after the journey, our next business 
was the making of a dark room, as we had taken many 
photographs on the journey that required developing. The 
weather at this time was very fine, but the Tibetans kept 
on teUing us that the rainy season ought to be starting, so 
we determined as soon as possible to send out parties in 
different directions to make the most of the favourable 
opportimity. The first morning after our arrival we were 
up on the top of the hill by six o'clock in the hope of getting 
a good view to the South, but the clouds were already over 
most of the mountains. Everest we could see quite clearly, 
and Cho-Uyo, the great 26,800 feet peak that lies to the 
West of Mount Everest. The Depon here, who was acting 
as the Governor of the place, was a nice young fellow and 
very cheery, and later on I got to know him very well and 
went over to his house and was entertained by him and 
his wife. He told me that the Tibetans still paid tribute 
to Nepal for aU that part of the country, and that the 
amount they had to pay was the equivalent of 5,000 rupees 
per annum. The Nepalese kept a head-man at Tingri and 
another at Nyenyam to deal with all criminal cases and 
offences committed by Nepalese subjects when in Tibet. 
I found later on that the Tibetans were very frightened 
of the Nepalese, or of having any dealings with a Gvirkha. 
I took photographs of the Depon' s wife and all their children, 
and of his mother-in-law, which delighted them immensely ; 
the wife at first was very shy of coming forward, but after 
many tears and protestations her husband finally induced 
her to be photographed. The great semi-circular head- 
dresses that the women wear are usually covered with 
turquoises, and coral, and often with strings of seed 
pearls across them. Round their necks bang long chains 
of either turquoise or coral beads, sometimes mixed with 
lumps of amber. Suspended round the neck by a shorter 
chain is generally a very elaborately decorated charm box, 
those belonging to the richer or upper classes being of gold 
inlaid with turquoises, the poorer people having them made 



74 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

of silver with poorer turquoises. The officials, as a rule, 
have a long ear-riag, 4 or 5 inches long, of turquoises and 
pearls, suspended from the left ear, whUe in the right ear 
they wear a single turquoise of very good quahty. Nearly 
every one carries a rosary, with which their hands are playing 
about the whole day. We were told that the laws governing 
marriage in those parts were strictly regulated. Owing 
to the excessive number of males, a form of polyandry 
prevails. If there were four brothers in a family, and the 
eldest one married a wife, his wife would also be the property 
of the three younger brothers ; but if the second or third 
brother married, their wives would be common only to 
themselves and their youngest brother. In Tibet, when, 
owing to the severe climate, digging is impossible for about 
six months in the year, if a man dies his body is handed 
over to professional corpse butchers, of whom there are 
one or two in every village. These butchers cut the body 
up into small pieces, which are taken out on to a hill-top 
and scattered about for the birds of the air or the wolves 
to devour. If by any chance there is a delay in consuming 
these remains, this is looked upon as a sign that the man 
has led an evil life during his lifetime. 

On June 22 WoUaston rejoined us again. He had 
escorted Raeburn to Lachen, and had there arranged for 
an assistant surgeon to come up and take him back as far 
as Gangtok. WoUaston had then come on as fast as possible 
to rejoin us. His kit did not arrive tiU the following day, as 
he had ridden in direct from Shekar Dzong. The following 
day BuUock and MaUory left us, making dii-ect for Mount 
Everest, and intending to reconnoitre the North and North- 
western slopes. Looked at from here it is certainly a 
very wonderful mountain, as it seems to stand up all by 
itself, but from this side it looks far too steep to be climbed. 
On June 25 Wheeler and Heron went off to Kyetrak, from 
which point Wheeler was to begin his photographic survey. 
I had intended to start the following day and join them, 
but the acid hypo that I had been using for fixing had given 



TIKGRI AND COtlNTRY TO SOUTH 75 

off so many sulphur fumes that I had been quite " gassed " 
for several days and had lost my voice in consequence. 
Unfortunately my orderly and Wheeler's bearer, who were 
both Mahommedans, were taken ill with enteric. Wheeler's 
bearer was in a very bad way, and a few days after my 
departure he died, but my orderly, after a bad attack, 
recovered, and when I returned three weeks later he was 
able to be up and to walk about a little. As WoUaston 
was likely to be detained here for some time owing to these 
cases of sickness, and as Morshead wanted to get in some 
surveying all round Tingri, I thought it would be a good 
opportunity to visit the different parties that we had sent 
out, and also to get, if possible, some information about 
Kiiarta, which I intended should be our second base. The 
coolies that we had still with us at Tingri were kept busy 
by WoUaston, and daily they would bring in rats, birds, 
lizards, beetles, or fish which they had collected for him. 
The local people would not make any attempt to collect 
these animals, as they said it was against their religion. On 
June 26 I started out to the South and camped the first 
night at Sharto, a small village about 9 miles across the 
plain to the South of Tingri. On the way we passed numbers 
of bees that seemed to be coming up out of the ground and 
swarming. These were all of a very light brown colour. 
Sharto is only a small village, but there are no other houses 
between it and Kyetrak, so that it was necessary to stop 
there. As the wind always blows with great strength here, 
the tents were pitched within some sheltering walls. In 
every place that we went to now we managed to get some 
kind of green food which was turned into spinach ; a small 
kind of weed that grows in the barley fields was generally 
thus used. At other times we tried turnip leaves, or again, 
when we were higher and above the limits of cultivation, 
the young shoots of the nettle which grows up to 17,000 
feet, and is really very good. I had taken with me this time 
a Tibetan whom we had picked up on the way. He was 
called Poo, and he turned out to be an excellent cook who 



76 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

could make any of the Tibetan dishes. As he was a sensible 
feUow, and very seldom drunk, I made a good deal of use 
of him. He accompanied me in all my wanderings, and I 
could not have found a more useful servant when travelling, 
as he never seemed to mind the cold or the height and could 
always produce a fire of some kind, even though he had 
forgotten to bring any matches. That evening at Sharto 
there was a curious false sunset in the East with rays 
of Hght in the deep purple of the sky. All the hUls stood 
out with wonderful sharpness, and the colours were very 
beautiful. Towards nightfall we saw a number of kiang, 
which came quite close up to the camp and started feeding 
on the barley fields in spite of the pillars of stones and the 
strings which are put round the fields to keep both them 
and the hares away from the crops. The next morning I 
started off early as I intended to chmb a hiU 17,700 feet, 
on the way to Kyetrak. This hill, however, proved further 
off than I anticipated, and we had some difficulty in crossing 
a glacier stream, so that I did not get up to the top tUl 9 
a.m., by which time the clouds had hidden a great part of 
the mountains to the South of us. The view, nevertheless, 
was extraordinarily fine. The top of Everest just showed 
above a great icy range to the East of us, and South-east 
was that great group of mountains of which Cho-Uyo, 26,800 
feet, is the highest. Immense granite precipices descended 
sheer for several thousand feet until they reached great 
winding glaciers, while from over the Khombu Pass long wisps 
of cloud came saUuig round these peaks and eventually hid 
them from our view. To the North the view extended 
right up to the watershed of the Brahmaputra, 80 to 100 
miles distant. The different colours of the hills, the Hght 
and shade from the clouds, all formed a charming picture. 
Once over 17,000 feet, I met my old friend the dwarf blue 
poppy {Meconopsis) and many pretty wliite, blue and yellow 
saxifrages that grew on the rocks. Descending from this 
hill into the Kyetrak Valley, we passed a number of goa 
which were quite tame, but unfortunately they were all 



TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 77 

females. We had two more big glacial torrents to cross 
which later in the afternoon would probably have been 
impassable as by that time they would have risen another 
2 feet, due to the melting of the snow and the ice by the 
hot sun m the morning ; indeed, we only just managed to 
get across when we did. The main Kyetrak stream comes 
from the great glacier that descends from Cho-Uyo and the 
ELhombu Pass. Opposite the village of Kyetrak it is luckily 
divided into a number of small streams, so that it is usually 
possible to get across it, though in the afternoons it is always 
somewhat difficult. 

This village lies at a height of 16,000 feet, at the foot 
of the Khombu or Nangba Pass and the Pusi Pass. The 
former is a high glacier-covered pass, about 19,000 feet, 
that leads into the Khombu Valley in Nepal. The other, 
the Pusi Pass, is a much lower and easier pass that leads 
into the Rongshar Valley. Between these two passes Kes 
a very beautiful glacier-covered peak called Chorabsang. 
Here at Kyetrak I met Heron and Wheeler encamped in 
the shelter of some walls close to the village, which consisted 
of a few dirty stone houses and a big Chorten. The people 
told me that they lived here all the year round, and that 
they owned the grazing for many miles to the North and 
possessed herds of yaks several thousand in number. TrafSc 
could be kept up over these passes, they said, at aU times 
of the year, though only with great difficulty, and with 
much danger, whole convoys being sometimes wiped out by 
bhzzards when trying to cross the Khombu Pass, as the 
fine powdery snow is blown down into their faces from every 
direction and they finally get suffocated by it. That night 
there was a sharp frost, and the following morning Heron 
and I started to go up towards the Khombu Pass, following 
at first the East side of the Kyetrak Glacier. For about 
6 or 7 miles we rode beside the great moraine that 
extended along the East side of this glacier ; every now and 
then we cHmbed up on to a mound on the edge of the glacier 
in order to take photographs of it. The ice was all torn 



78 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

and riven into wonderful shapes and opposite us was the 
finely crevassed peak of Chorabsang. I pushed on, leaving 
Heron to come on at a slower pace, as I was anxious to get 
to the top of the pass before the clouds should have come 
up and hidden aU the views. Every day it cost us a race 
to get up to a point of vantage before the clouds should 
have come up and hidden everything. Leaving the pony 
behind, with one coohe, I pressed forward for some 4 miles 
up a very stony and sHppery moraine on the glacier. Here 
were many curious ice formations — ^ice tables with a big 
flat rock superimposed, curious upright pillars of ice, and 
the main glacier itself was worn by stone and water into the 
weirdest shapes and forms. In places, too, we came across 
that curious formation which in South America is called 
Nieve Penitentes. As we passed onwards, new glaciers 
opened up in every valley. The views up some of these 
side valleys, which often widened out into great amphi- 
theatres, were very grand, especially that of the huge glacier 
that swept down from below the rock walls of Cho-Uyo. 

On arriving at the end of the moraine, the boots that 
my coohe was wearing came to pieces and he said he could 
go no further across the snow, so shouldering the big camera, 
I started off alone. At first the ice was firm, but soon I 
came to soft snow and much water underneath it : they 
made the going very unpleasant and I kept floundering 
about up to my knees in snow and water. At length I came 
to a large crevasse along the edge of which I followed for 
over half a mile as most of the snow bridges across it were 
unsafe. At last I found my way across and by chmbing on 
to some rocks was able to look over the top of the pass and 
down into Nepal. The height of the pass seemed to be 
about 19,000 feet, and as the day was very hot, I lay down 
and went sound asleep, only waking up when it began to 
snow. I then started, none too soon, on my homeward 
journey : aU the way back snow feU heavily. I was very 
thankful to meet my coohe again and to hand over the 
camera to him : carrying a camera for five or sis: hours in 



TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 79 

soft snow at a height of over 18,000 feet is a heavy tax upon 
the endurance of anyone unaccustomed to carrying weights. 
Wheeler meanwhile had moved up his camp from Kyetrak 
to a spot on the moraine East of the glacier and intended 
to spend a week or fortnight in that vaUey. 

The next morning Heron and I started to go over the 
Pusi Pass (Marmot Pass), so called because of the number 
of marmots that frequent the Southern slopes. After 
fording the Kyetrak River, we climbed up the moraine to 
the West of the Kyetrak Glacier and then turned up some 
easy grass hiUs until we came to the top of the pass, 17,700 
feet. Here at the very top were growing some dehghtful 
little dwarf forget-me-nots — not an inch high — also many 
white and yeUow saxifrages. Most of the views were 
unfortunately hidden by clouds, though one fine triple- 
headed peak showed up well to the South. We passed 
several flocks of female burhel {Ovis nahura), which were 
quite tame, and allowed us to ride up to within 50 yards 
of them. The hillsides were bare at first and grassy and 
the air felt distinctly cold and damp. We now commenced 
our long descent, and at 16,000 feet began to meet with 
juniper bushes and many dwarf rhododendrons. As we 
got lower, many more varieties of bushes appeared. There 
were two or three kinds of berberis, loniceras, white and pink 
spiraeas, and quantities of white roses ; besides these were 
masses of primulas and anemones, and pink, white or mauve 
geraniums. We now followed the right bank of the Shung- 
chu, a great glacial torrent, which joined by several others 
became an unfordable stream. The path was well engineered, 
sometimes close to the river, and sometimes built out on 
rocks high above the stream. All of a sudden the vaUey 
narrowed into a great gorge. We had left aU the granites 
and slates behind and had suddenly come into the zone 
of the gneiss, which extended many miles to the South. 
A Httle way further down, at a place where two other valleys 
meet, we caught sight of some green barley fields lying round 
the small village of Tasang where we encamped on a terrace 



80 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

for the night. We were now at a height of only 13,300 
feet, and were able to get fresh eggs and vegetables again. 
It was a great pleasure once more to have wood fires in 
place of the yak dung with its acrid smoke, which caused 
aU one's food to taste unpleasantly. Here we used as fuel 
the aromatic wood of the juniper. 

This valley is looked upon as a holy one, owing to the 
number of juniper bushes that grow in it, and several 
hermits and nirns had taken up their abode in it and 
shut themselves up in caves in order to meditate. The 
nearest village used to supply them with food, and morning 
and evening could be seen ascending the blue smoke of the 
juniper, which they burnt as incense before the entrances of 
their dweUing places. There was a hermit who Uved close 
to the village and whose cave we could see high up in the 
rocks above. The villagers told us that after meditating 
for a period of ten years, he would be able to live on 
only ten grains of barley a day, and they were looking 
forward to that day. There was another anchorite female 
who was supposed to have hved here for 138 years and 
who was greatly revered. She had forbidden any of the 
animals in the valley to be killed, and that was the reason 
why the flocks of burhel we had passed were so extremely 
tame. The next day, giving our transport a rest. Heron 
and I walked for 7 or 8 miles down the valley. On the 
opposite side of the valley the only trees were birches and 
willow, and it was curious that, at these comparatively 
low heights, there were no large rhododendrons or fix trees. 
On the other side of the valley, the vegetation consisted 
wholly of juniper, berberis or wild roses. We descended 
to 12,000 feet, most of the time going through narrow gorges. 
At one place we came across a number of gooseberry bushes 
covered with young gooseberries, of which we gathered a 
sufficient supply to last us for several days. The rose bushes 
were charming all the way. At first they were aU of the 
white creamy coloured variety, but lower down we came 
on the big red one with flowers often more than 3 inches 



TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 81 

in diameter. Wherever there were springs of water there 
grew masses of anemones and yellow primulas. We now 
returned to our camp at Tasang, and rain then started and 
continued the remainder of the day. The people told 
us that this valley was passable for animals for three days' 
journey, after which the river entered into some terrible 
gorges down which it was only just possible for a coolie to 
get along, and these latter gorges formed the boundary 
between Tibet and Nepal. On July 1 we started to return 
to Kyetrak ; the morning was misty when we started, and 
though the higher peaks were aU hidden in the clouds, the 
sun shone brightly and the day was quite hot. Our kit 
did not arrive till between five and six o'clock, and the yaks 
had a great deal of trouble in getting across the Kyetrak 
River, as it had risen considerably. Wheeler was stUl at 
his high camp further up the valley, waiting for a reaUy clear 
day. The clouds, too, were his great enemies, as they came 
up very early every morning from over the Klhombu Pass. 
From here Heron and I had decided to go on and see 
how Mallory and Bullock had been faring in the next valley, 
so the next morning, after breakfasting at 5 a.m., we started 
off. It was one of the coldest mornings we had had, with 
a very hard frost, and being on the shady side of the vaUey 
we did not get the sun tiU several hours after we had started. 
After going down the vaUey for about 6 miles, we turned 
oflE to the East and crossed several easy passes, the higher 
of them, the Lamna La, being 16,900 feet. The country 
was very barren of flowers and vegetation, but there was 
a certain amount of grazing for yaks and sheep. The march 
to Zambu was a fairly long one of 20 miles, but the yaks 
came along well. This was a more prosperous-looking 
village than most of them, and the houses were all white- 
washed. We were still too high for barley fields as we were 
just 16,000 feet, but the wealth of the village lay in its herds 
of yaks and sheep ; the villagers told us they owned 3,000 
yaks. Shepherds in this country are but poorly paid, 
getting only thirty trangkas (105.) per annum. But house 



82 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

servants are stiU worse off, getting only eight trangkas 
(25. Sd.) per annum. However, they seem to thrive under 
those wages and there is no discontent or trades unionism 
among them. Our camp was pitched in a sunny spot not 
far from the village, looking straight over towards Mount 
Everest, whose top appeared over the opposite hills. From 
this side its precipices looked most formidable and there 
was also a magnificent ridge which we had not seen before. 
There was a slight frost agam that night. 

Breakfasting, as usual, at 5 a.m., I started up the hill 
South of the camp and was lucky enough to get a clear 
view of Everest and the Rongbuk VaUey that led up to 
it. This valley ran right up to the foot of Mount Everest 
and seemed an easy enough approach, but the mountain 
itself looked absolutely unscalable from this side, showing 
nothing but a series of very steep precipices. The day 
turned out to be a very hot one. I descended into the 
valley below, and started to ride up towards Mount Everest. 
Presently I came to an unfordable stream, and after making 
several attempts to get across this, found myself compelled 
to return several miles down the vaUey to the monastery 
of Chobu, where there was a slender footbridge. The pony 
that I was riding was swum across, a rope being attached to 
its head. He was then puUed over to the far side, a proceeding 
he did not at all enjoy. The yaks, too, were unladen, 
and the loads carried by hand over the bridge. After this 
the yaks were driven into the river and made to swim across, 
but they only went as far as an island in the middle of the 
river. From this place they woiild not budge in spite of 
stones, curses and threats, until at length a man with a 
sling, fetched from the monastery, hurled stones at them with 
great violence : this procedure apparently so stung them 
up that they thought it advisable to cross the remamder 
of the stream. At the entrance to the valley, we passed 
some very tame burhel within a few yards of the path, and 
then went along at the foot of some fine chffs with Hmestone 
on the top and layers of hornblende and granite below. At 



TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 83 

first there was quite a rich vegetation growing here, 
considering we were just on 16,000 feet. There were juniper 
bushes, clematis, willows, a genista, rock roses, and even 
some yellow primulas, but as we got further into the valley 
it became more stony, and on either side of the path were 
small piles of stones heaped up by pilgrims. The valley 
was considered very sacred and was apparently a great place 
of pilgrimage. We found the base camp of the Alpine 
chmbers pitched close to the Rongbuk Monastery, where 
there hved a very high re-incarnated Lama who was in 
meditation and not allowed to see anyone. This valley 
was called the Rongbuk, or inner valley^ — a name well 
suited to it ; the legend was that from this valley there used 
to be a pass over into the Khombu Valley, but the high 
Lama who lived here forbade the use of it, as it disturbed 
the meditations of the recluses and hermits, of which there 
were several hundred here. At first these good people did 
not at all approve of our coming into this valley, as they 
thought we should be likely to disturb and distract their 
meditations. 

The Rongbuk Monastery Kes at a height of 16,500 feet, 
and is an unpleasantly cold spot. This monastery contains 
twenty permanent Lamas who always five there, together 
with the re-incarnated Lama. Besides these, there are three 
hundred other associated Lamas who come in periodically, 
remaining there for periods of varying length. These 
Associate Lamas are mostly well-to-do, and having sufficient 
money to support themselves are not a drain upon the 
villagers. They will often invest several thousand trangkas 
with some village, and in retin-n for this money the village 
will supply them with food, barley, milk, eggs and fuel. 
Higher up the valley there was a smaller monastery, and 
dotted along the hillside were numerous cells and caves 
where monks or nuns had retired to meditate. Every 
animal that we saw in this valley was extraordinarily tame. 
In the mornings we watched the burhel coming to some 
hermits' cells not a hundred yards away from the camp. 



84 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

to be fed, and from there they went on to other ceUs. They 
seemed to have no fear whatever of human bemgs. On 
the way up the valley we passed within 40 to 50 yards of 
a fine flock of rams, but they barely moved away, and on 
the way back we passed some females that were so inquisitive 
that they actually came up to within 10 yards of us in order 
to have a look at us. The rock pigeons came and fed out 
of one's hand, and the ravens and all the other birds here 
were equally tame ; it was most interesting to be able to 
watch all their habits and to see them at such close quarters. 
On July 4, Heron and I walked up the valley to see MaUory 
and Bullock, who had got an Alpine camp some 7 miles 
fiu"ther up the vaUey at a height of 18,000 feet, where they 
were training their coolies in snow and ice work and trying 
to find out whether there was any possible way of attacking 
Mount Everest from this side. It was a beautiful morning 
when we started, and on the way we passed one or two 
small monasteries and numerous cells where hermits and 
recluses were living in retirement and meditation. After 
crossing several small lake beds and old moraines — for the 
big Rongbuk Glacier seemed to have been retiring in the 
last few years — ^we came to the big moraine-covered Rongbuk 
Glacier. This glacier appeared to be about 8 or 9 miles 
long, starting immediately below an immense circle of chffs 
which formed the North face of Mount Everest. We found 
afterwards that there were several other side glaciers that 
joined in it, which were even larger and longer than the 
centre glacier. After some steep scrambles up the moraine- 
covered glacier and on to a high terrace on the West side of 
it, we found MaUory and BuUock with their coohes encamped 
in a pleasantly sheltered spot with plenty of water close 
at hand and commanding the most magnificent - views of 
Mount Everest, which here seemed to be only about 6 miles 
away and towered up above the glacier, showing immense 
cHffs 10,000 feet high. MaUory and BuUock were hard at 
work training the coolies in snow and ice work and exploring 
aU the different glaciers from that side. They were, however, 



TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 85 

much handicapped by there only being two of them, which 
made the work more strenuous. After spending the day 
with them, Heron and I returned to our camp in the evening. 
The evening hght on Mount Everest was wonderfully beautiful. 
The weather seems nearly always to clear up about sunset, 
and its summit then usually towers far above the clouds 
in a clear sky. At dusk several of the Lamas came for 
medicines of different kinds, which we gave them, and much 
to our surprise in the morning they presented us with a 
number of fresh eggs in gratitude. Having seen Mallory 
and BuUock well estabhshed in this vaUey, our next most 
important duty seemed to be to select a site for our next 
base camp. Some place on the East side of Mount Everest 
would have to be chosen, and it seemed that somewhere 
in the Kharta Valley would be the most likely spot. Heron 
and I therefore determined that we would make a quick 
reconnaissance of that district before returning to Tingri. 
On the following day we moved down from the Rongbuk 
Monastery. 



CHAPTER V 

THE SEAECH FOR KHARTA 

After leaving Mallory and Bullock to continue the search 
for a possible route up Mount Everest from the Rongbuk 
side, Heron and I, on July 5, started off down the Rongbuk 
Valley in order to visit Kiiarta. We had been told that it 
was only two days' easy march from the monastery to get 
there. It was a cold morning when we started off ; there 
had been a sharp frost during the night and the sun did 
not reach us tUl late ia the morning. Mount Everest stood 
out at the head of the vaUey wonderfully clear and clothed 
with a fresh mantle of white. Instead of crossing over the 
river by the bridge, at Chobu, we kept straight on down 
the vaUey tUl we came to Chodzong, where were the first 
barley fields and cultivation. There was plenty of water 
here for irrigation purposes, and some fine grassy fields 
on which many ponies were grazing. We had to change 
our transport in tliis village and get fresh animals, so that 
it was not till three o'clock in the afternoon that we got 
started again. In Tibet they have a system of stages, and 
animals from one village are taken, as a rule, for one stage 
only. As each stage usually ends at the next vfilage, and as 
villages are frequent, this is a most awkward and inconvenient 
arrangement — as it necessitates three or four changes a 
day. In order to avoid these constant changes, we used to 
persuade the villagers by promises of extra baksheesh, 
especially where we had a large number of animals, to 
undertake two or three stages. After leaving Chodzong 
we chmbed up over a steep pass 1,200 feet above the valley 
and found a stfil deeper descent to the village of Halung, 
which lay at our feet. Here we waited for oxlt transport, 

86 



THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 87 

but as this did not arrive till dark, we decided to camp 
there, though we had only done 18 miles from Rongbuk ; 
the yak travels very slowly. We were now again at 14,800 
feet and found a much warmer climate, with green barley 
fields and here and there patches of yellow mustard. A 
large rhubarb with a curious crinkled leaf grew here and 
there in the fields. We tried to eat this rhubarb ; it 
had an unpleasant taste, but this disappeared when it 
was cooked and it proved a welcome addition to our diet. 
The Tibetans do not use it for food, as sugar — ^without 
which it would be uneatable — is scarce and expensive in 
the country. The plant serves, however, as an acid for 
dyes. 

Halung is a very prosperous-looking village with well- 
built houses. The villagers soon had three tents pitched 
for us on a grassy field between the village and the river ; 
cushions, cooking pots and fuel were also brought out for us. 
Here we camped for the night in reasonable comfort. On 
the following morning the loads were aU carried by hand 
across a fragile bridge over the glacier stream, while the 
yaks and the ponies were driven across it. We then rode 
for a mile down the green and weU-watered valley, and 
afterwards turned up into another vaUey where every flat 
space was green with barley-fields intermixed with briUiant 
patches of yellow from the fields of mustard. A small 
glacier stream fed this vaUey and supplied plenty of water 
for irrigation. After passing several small villages we rode 
across a spur also covered with barley-fields to Rebu, where 
we had to change our transport. This was quite a picturesque 
village situated on a rocky knoU, part of the village being 
on one side and part on the other of the river. Along the 
various irrigation canals were wild flowers of aU kinds. 
Monkshood grew there, also black and yellow clematis, 
rhubarb, ranunculus and primulas of different kinds. By 
ten o'clock oiir transport was changed and we were given 
ponies instead of yaks : they travel much quicker and we 
had apparently a long way to go yet before we could reach 



88 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

the next village. We were expecting aU the time to get to 
lOiarta that evening, but where distances are concerned 
all Tibetans are Uars, and after doing 26 miles we stopped, 
Kharta being apparently as far off as ever. After leaving 
Rebu the path led for some miles up an uninteresting valley, 
in which hmestone chffs on one side and sandstone cliffs 
on the other came down almost to the stream, the waters 
of which, in contrast to the muddy glacier streams that 
we had been meeting the whole time, were as clear as crystal. 
There were many small birds along the banks, aU of them 
wonderfully tame ; these, when we were resting for lunch, 
hopped all round us and imder om" legs, carrying off crumbs 
or any morsels of food. We now cHmbed up on to a pass 
called the Doya La, 17,000 feet, from the top of which were 
fine views of great rocky peaks on either side, those on the 
South being covered in parts with hanging glaciers. About 
a quarter of a mile from the top of the pass we struck some 
granite soil on which grew an extraordinary variety of 
Alpine flowers ; the blue poppy abounded, pink, yellow 
and white saxifrages covered aU the rocks, and besides these 
were many other plants which I had not seen before and 
which were quite new to me. The range which we now 
crossed acts as a barrier against the approach of the Monsoon 
clouds and prevents them from passing over into Tibet. 
Over on the North side the country is mostly dry and very 
Httle grows there, whereas on the South there is a rich and 
varied vegetation and the air feels soft and moist. The 
road from the pass led by an easy descent into a fine vaUey 
with a green lake lying at its head under the dark chffs 
of some bold rocky peaks. We followed this valley for 
many miles, a strong head wind blowing agamst us the whole 
of the time, and found ourselves before long once more 
among the junipers and willows. We also saw pink and 
white rhododendi'ons, and in places a small yellow one 
with waxy blossoms. The yellow rock cistus, spiraeas, roses, 
yeUow primidas, blue monkshood, campanulas, blue anemones, 
and hundreds of other wild flowers formed a rich flora wliich 



THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 89 

showed that a considerable precipitation from the Monsoon 
fell in this vaUey. 

At last we came to a viEage, but every one fled at our 
approach, and we could get no information about the route. 
A Httle further on we came across more villages, in one 
of which, with much difficulty and after a long chase, we 
captured a man and made him guide us to the village of 
Chulungphu, where we decided to stop the night. After 
a Httle time we induced some of the villagers to come out 
from their hiding-places, and to produce tents and fuel for 
us. The camp was pitched in a field of sweet-scented primulas 
near the village. The architecture of these houses was quite 
different from what we had met before — they all appear 
to be strongly fortified, as they have practically no windows 
and there are only small loopholes facing outwards. They 
are aU buUt of a brown stone — a kind of gneiss, and have 
sods on the parapet over which are laid branches of juniper. 
The next morning we woke to the sound of pattering rain 
and found aU the hiUs wreathed in grey mist. This was 
their first rain this year, so the inhabitants told us. It was 
pleasant to one's skin after the dry climate and biting winds 
that we had been experiencing on the other side of the 
passes to feel oneself wrapped in a softer and milder air. 
We rode down this valley for about 6 miles untU it debouched 
into the main Arun Valley. The people, however, do not 
know it by this name here, but caU it stiU the Bhong-chu 
until it reaches Nepal. We passed villages aU the way, 
villages brown in. colour and built of a brown gneiss, 
around which grew fields of barley and mustard. After 
the barren valleys which we had left, these appeared very 
fertile ; rose and currant bushes surrounded every field, 
while the hillsides were covered with juniper and willows. 
Along the path grew spiraeas and clematis, while beside 
every watercourse were yeUow marsh marigolds and primulas. 
A feature of the Arun Valley, which was fairly wide here, 
was the old terraces on its slopes, now aU covered with 
barley, pea and mustard fields, the latter being a blaze of 



90 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

yeUow. There were many villages here and some pleasant 
country houses surrounded by groves of willows and poplars. 
Down here the people were not quite so frightened of us 
as they were in the valley from which we had just come, 
where they had run away from us whenever we approached. 
The Bong-chu here is a large river with a very great flow 
of water, and quite unfordable. The nearest place where 
it could be crossed is at a rope bridge some 18 miles higher 
up, and during the rainy season this bridge is impassable, 
and communication with the other side completely cut 
off. To the South and close by, at a height of 12,000 feet, 
the Bhong-chu enters a terrific gorge on either side of which 
tower up great chffs with snowy peaks high above them. 
On some of the slopes which are not quite so steep there 
are thick forests of fir trees and rhododendrons where, I 
was told, the muskdeer lived. After descending the valley 
for 3 miles, we turned up a side valley pointing Westwards. 
Down this flowed a very large and unfordable glacial stream. 
This evidently came down from the neighbourhood of 
Mount Everest, but local information as to its source was 
very vague, and it was evident that we should have to 
prospect for ourselves. Some 3 miles up this vaUey we came 
to a place called by the natives Kharta Shika, where the 
Governor of the Klharta District resides. Kharta was not 
apparently a village at aU, but a district including a number 
of small villages. We halted a short distance below Kharta 
Shika and presently the Governor came out to meet us with 
a present of sweetmeats and the usual scarf. He apologised 
for not meeting us before, as he said that he had no informa- 
tion as to the date of our arrival. He begged that we would 
come over to his garden where he had ordered a flne Cliinese 
tent to be pitched for us. We crossed the river by a wooden 
bridge, and after going through the village came to the 
Governor's house. Grossing through the courtyard we 
entered his garden, which lay in a nice sheltered spot 
svirrounded by willow trees with a stream of clear water 
running through it. Big wild roses grew there and a few 



THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 91 

European flowers that he had planted, while under a very- 
ancient poplar there was a large painted prayer wheel, some 8 
feet high, which was turned by a stream of water. Here in his 
garden he provided us with a meal of excellent macaroni 
and a very hot chilli salad. It was very pleasant to rest 
the eyes on the luscious green of the well irrigated garden, 
and to be for once sheltered from the wind. During the 
night we were awakened by a regular shower bath. The 
Chinese tent, beautiful as it was in outward appearance, 
was sadly lacking in waterproof quaUties. As it rained 
steadily most of the night, we had to take cover under our 
mackintoshes on which were pools of water in the morning. 
There seemed to be no doubt that the proper Monsoon had 
at last broken, and the Jongpen himself told us that this 
was the first really heavy rain that they had had. All the 
people considered that we had brought this rain with us 
and were very grateful in consequence ; later on, when we 
left, they begged us not to stop the rain, as they wanted 
it badly for their crops. 

As it cleared up a little about nine o'clock in the morning, 
though the hills were stUl aU in cloud, we rode out with 
Chheten Wangdi, the Jongpen and Hopaphema, who was 
the largest landowner about here, to look out for a site 
for our next base camp. We wanted, if possible, to get a 
house that could be used as a store-room and also for photo- 
graphic purposes. We rode down into the main vaUey, 
and after looking over several houses, we eventually selected 
one on an old river terrace with fine views all around and 
standing quite by itself well away from any village. The 
water supply was good and handy, and there was a pleasant 
garden of poplars and willows, in which we could pitch our 
tents. After a certain amount of bargaining, the owners 
were wUhng to let us have the house and the garden for the 
large rent of one trangka {3^d.) a day. It was apparently 
the first time anyone in that vaUey had ever wanted to 
rent a house, and there were no house agents there to run one 
up into exorbitant prices. We then rode on to Hopaphema's 



92 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

house, which was a fine soKdly buUt dweUing siirrovuided 
by large juniper trees, willows and poplars. Later on we 
got to know this man very well, and used to call him always 
the " Sergeant," as he was supposed to do any recruiting 
for the Tibetan army that was needed in that vaUey. He 
had a very kindly disposition, was always very hospitable, 
and had a great sense of humour. He had a tent pitched 
for our reception under a very old poplar with a grass plot 
in front surrounded by bushes of wild red roses. Here we 
were given tea, nulk and beer, and then the usual macaroni 
and mince was produced. On leaving, he insisted on my 
taking away a large quantity of turnip leaves, as he knew 
I was very fond of green food, and they made an excellent 
" spinach." The Tibetans that we met have invariably 
proved very kindly and hospitable. 

On returning to Kharta, where I had left Heron, I found 
that it had been raining all the time, though in the main 
valley we had had it quite fine. In the evening I took a 
walk up to an old fort not far from our camp. This fort 
in old days had commanded the only path from here that 
led into Nepal, but now it had aU fallen into ruin. Close 
by it, however, was a dehghtful deU full of hoary willow 
trees, underneath which the ground was carpeted with 
yeUow primulas growing among the bushes of scarlet roses. 
Near by were two old poplar trees, whose trunks measured 
between 20 and 30 feet in chcumference and were evidently 
of a very 'great age. The primulas everywhere were really 
astonishing. They outlined every watercoxu-se with yellow 
and often grew between 2 and 3 feet high with enormous 
heads of sweet cowshp-scented yellow flowers. It rained 
again during the whole of the night, and the fine spray 
that came through the Chinese tent made sleep rather 
difficult. The next morning we started to go back to Tmgri, 
and for the first day's march were given coohes for our 
transport. In this district coolies are used a great deal 
as aU the trade with Nepal has to be carried on by them, 
the paths over the passes bemg quite impassable for pack 



THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 93 

transport; the Jongpen told us that we would find them 
quite as fast as ponies. 

To-day's march was to Lumeh — a distance of about 
17 miles — and the coohes arrived very soon after we did, 
having come along extraordinarily well. Our route for the 
first 3 miles was down the Kharta VaUey until it joined 
the valley of the Bhong-chu ; we then followed the right bank 
of this for some 10 miles. On the way we stopped at the 
house of Hopaphema, who insisted on giving us a meal 
of milk, macaroni and mince, although it was only just 
over an hour since we had had breakfast. On our departure 
he gave us a basket of eggs and some more turnip leaves 
to take along with us, and altogether showed himself a 
most friendly and hospitable host. At first we rode through 
fields of barley, peas and mustard for several miles, the vaUey 
then became much more barren and the path occasionally 
was taken high up on the face of a chfE, where the river 
swept round close beneath the mountain side. At other 
times we crossed broad stony terraces. We came eventually 
to the village of Dak, where the monks from the monastery 
had pitched tents for us and had another meal provided 
for us. Coohes had to be changed here, our old cooHes 
arriving while we were having our meal ; after the loads 
had been transferred, our new transport proceeded along to 
Lumeh, where we intended to spend the night. The path 
after Dak was in places dangerous owing to falhng stones, 
and our guide every now and then urged us to hurry, as 
owing to the heavy rain of the preceding night many stones 
had been loosened. The main Bhong-chu suddenly turned 
off to the East from here, unexpectedly forcing a passage 
through a very curious and deep gorge, where it burst its 
way through the highest mountains. We did not, however, 
foUow the valley of the Bhong-chu, but kept on up what 
appeared to be the main vaUey ; this was really only the 
vaUey of the Lower Rongbuk that in its lower portion is 
called the Dzakar-chu. This river we crossed by a wooden 
bridge, built on the cantilever principle, and which a couple 



94 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

of months later was washed away. After riding for a couple 
of miles over a nice grassy turf we came to Lumeh. Here 
was a very fine country house around which were grouped a 
few smaller houses. This was the residence of Ngawangyonten, 
who was managing the district for the big monastery at 
Shekar Dzong, whose property it was. He had tents already 
pitched for us, and fuel, mUk and eggs already prepared. 
Around this house were five of the largest poplar trees that 
I have ever seen. The largest was almost 40 feet in circum- 
ference at the base, and the others were aU between 20 
and 25 feet in circumference. The villagers told us that 
they thought these trees had been planted about 500 years 
ago. Magpies and hoopoes were very common in this 
vaUey — the former were quite tame and allowed us to 
approach very close. The barley-fields seemed to hold many 
hares. Some fine crops of wheat as well as barley were 
grown here, although the height was 12,800 feet. Every 
night now we had heavy rain which brought fresh snow 
down to 16,000 feet. As the clouds remained low all day 
we seldom got any distant views. 

The march to Pulme, our next point up the vaUey of 
the Dzakar-chu, was 22 miles, a very duU and uninteresting 
ride. The going was bad — we often had to follow the bed 
of the river, which was now in flood and extended to the 
cHffs on both sides — at other times we kept high up on 
the steep sides of a gorge, sometimes of gneiss, sometimes 
of limestone rock. In places where the vaUey widened 
out, the river bed was full of bushes of tamarisk and sea 
buckthorn, but otherwise the vegetation was scanty. After 
going 15 miles we were to change coolies ; but the Lumeh 
coohes, who were extremely poor and very different from 
those that we had taken from Kharta, took eleven hours 
to cover the 15 mUes, and did not arrive till six in the evening. 
Much to Heron's disgust, I proposed to push on to Pulme, 
late as it was ; but the road was good, and we trotted the 
7 mUes in an hour and a half, though the coolies and the 
donkeys did not arrive till well after dark. Fortunately we 



THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 95 

found tents as usual pitched for our reception. We had 
originally intended to ford the Dzakar-chu that evening 
and camp on the far side, but it was too dangerous to do it 
in the dark, though the villagers told us that by morning 
the stream would be a couple of feet higher. The river is 
a great obstacle at this time of the year, as there is no bridge 
over it here, the next bridge being at Chobu, 20 mUes higher 
up the valley. 

The following day I started on my return journey to 
Tingri, leaving at 5.30 in the morning with Chheten Wangdi. 
I succeeded in fording the Dzakar-chu, which was deep and 
very swift. My pony was swept off his legs once and I got 
very wet, the icy cold water coming right over the saddle. 

Heron and the coohes were to foUow on slowly and 
were to take two days in reaching Tingri, but I was anxious 
to get back, having been away already longer than I intended. 
Four miles away, at Tashi Dzom, I changed ponies and 
procured a guide who was to take me on to Tingri, leaving 
Chheten Wangdi behind with Heron. This guide proved 
quite an amusing fellow, and suddenly surprised me by 
counting in Enghsh one, two, three, four, and then saying 
" Right turn " and " Left turn," and other mihtary words 
of command. On inquiring where he had learned this 
English, I found that at one time he had served as a soldier 
at Lhasa, where the military words of command are in 
English, and these were the only Enghsh words that he 
knew. After leaving Tashi Dzom we turned up into a broad 
side vaUey with villages every haLf-mUe and surrounded 
by barley, mustard and pea fields. What was, however, 
especially noticeable about aU these vaUeys that we had 
been passing through for the last two days, was the extra- 
ordinary number of ruined villages that there were everywhere. 
This was not due to lack of water, for there was plenty of 
water in all the streams ; these vaUeys, however, must have 
at one time been very thickly inhabited, and it is probable 
that the dearth of population to-day is due to the wars 
with the Gurkhas in the eighteenth century. We had a very 



96 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

wet ride — one storm after another overtook us, and. a cold 
rain fell heavily all the way to Tingri. We gradually ascended 
out of the cultivation and crossing a low pass, about 16,000 
feet, looked down again on the great Tingri Plain. There 
was still, however, a long way to go, and it was not tUl 
after five o'clock in the evening that I reached Tingri, 
drenched to the skin. It had been a ride of between 36 and 
40 miles. 

At Tingri I found Wollaston and Morshead. The former 
had been very busy aU the time I had been away in collecting 
insects, butterflies, rats, mice, birds and flowers, and had 
amassed quite a number of specimens. Morshead had been 
out a good deal with his surveyors to the North and to 
the West, but had been driven m by the bad weather of 
the last few days. This had apparently been general and 
we might say that the rainy season this year had begun 
on July 7, which the Tibetans considered very late for 
those parts. The following afternoon Heron arrived, and 
my kit also, which I was very glad to get, as I had only 
had a spare tent to roU around me the previous night. 

The next day or two was spent mostly in reading letters 
and newspapers. Our postal arrangements were at first 
rather comphcated, there being no regular postal service to 
the provinces in Tibet. We had, therefore, to make an 
arrangement with each Jongpen to forward on our mail. 
Phari was the last post office, and the postmaster there 
had to arrange with the Phari Jongpen for a messenger 
every week to go with our posts to Khamba Dzong ; we 
had left money with him for the purpose of paying the 
postman. At Khamba Dzong we had arranged with the 
Jongpen there that he should forward our letters to Tinki, 
and at Tinki we had made further arrangements for them 
to be sent on to Shekar Dzong and from Shekar Dzong they 
were to be sent to Tingri. We had left money for this 
purpose with the various Jongpens, and each Jongpen as 
he received the mail bag was to afiix his seal on it and send 
it on as quickly as he could to the next Jongpen. This 



THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 97 

system worked very well for the first two months, but after 
we had moved to Kharta, partly owing to floods, and partly 
perhaps to the laziness of the Shekar Jongpen, our mails 
were all held up and we eventually had to send cooHes back 
from our camp to Phari to bring them along. The best 
plan another time would be to take with the Expedition a 
certain number of coohes to be used purely for going backwards 
and forwards with the mails. On July 13 Morshead and 
WoUaston left to go to Nyenyam in response to a cordial 
invitation from the Jongpen, asking that some of the 
Expedition should visit the place. We were glad to accept, 
and this should be a very interesting part of the country 
botanically. 



CHAPTER VI 
THE MOVE TO KHARTA 

I had arrived back at Tingri on July 11, and remained 
there in the Chinese rest-house until July 24, when I started 
to move the base camp and all the stores round to Kharta. 
During the time I was not left always alone, for Heron came 
in occasionally for a night between his various geological 
expeditions to the North. Wheeler also came down for 
a change and a rest, and to develop the photographs that 
he had taken. He had been having a very trying and 
provoking time in the high camps, as the weather had been 
bad, with frequent snowfalls. Nearly every day he chmbed 
up to a spur 20,000 feet or more in height, yet in spite of 
waiting all day there in the icy cold winds or driving snow, 
it was but seldom that he was able to get a photograph, 
and then the clouds would only lift for a few minutes. 

There was always plenty to do at Tingri, so the time 
passed quickly. Much photographic work had to be done 
and much developing and printing of the many photographs 
that were beuag sent in by the various members of the party. 
Supphes had also to be sent out and arrangements made 
for the comforts of the climbing party in the Rongbuk Valley. 
There were also several expeditions to be made round Tingri, 
and these were fuU of interest. Anemometers were very 
popular in this district ; they were fixed by the Tibetans 
above small prayer wheels, and owing to the constant winds, 
it was seldom that the prayer wheels were not revolving. 
Many yaks' horns, carved all over with prayers, were lying 
about on the different Chortens or Mani walls. The barley, 
which was only just coming up when we arrived, was now 
18 inches high and coming into ear, and though we were 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 99 

over 14,000 feet, the crops looked very healthy and even. 
Every evening during this period we had heavy storms of 
rain with much hghtning and thunder, and fresh snow used 
to fall during the night as low as 15,000 feet, but most of it 
melted again during the day. During this period the plains 
round Tingri were rapidly becoming marshes and the rivers 
quite unfordable. The storms always gathered to the North 
of us, along the Sipri limestone ridge, and the high mountain 
chain that formed the watershed between the Brahmaputra 
and the Bhong-chu. These storms generally worked down 
towards the South. Occasionally fine days came to us 
when there was a strong South wind to blow the rain back, 
and it was seldom that the Monsoon clouds brought rain 
directly to us from the South. The Sipri range was a very 
conspicuous limestone range to the North of us, the limestone 
being worn into the most curious shapes. It was looked 
upon by the Tibetans as being a holy mountain, and on its 
slopes were many small monasteries. Hermits also took 
up their abode in the hmestone caves below the summit. 
Pilgrims used to come from great distances to make the 
circuit of the mountain. This took generally five days, 
and much merit was acquired by doing so. 

On July 17 I made an excursion out to the Hot Springs 
at Tsamda, about 7 miles away to the North-west across 
the plain. The vaUey of the Bhong-chu narrows there for 
a few mUes before opening out again into the wide Sutso 
Plain. There were two or three hot springs here, but only 
one large one, and this was enclosed by walls within which 
were Httle stone huts in which people could change their 
clothes. The water was just the right temperature for a 
nice hot bath. When I went there, there was one man 
bathing and also washing his clothes in it. The Tibetans 
said, however, that this was not the proper season for bathing. 
The autumn was the correct time for them to have their 
annual bath before the winter sets in. The water was saline 
and had, I think, a little iron in it, but was not very 
unpleasant to the taste. The rocks from, which it gushea 



100 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

out are very extraordinary, the strata fornaing a very steep 
arch, on the top of which there is a crack, from the very 
end of which, and at its lowest point, the springs came 
bubbhng out. Near by in the vaUey there were also a good 
many sahne deposits. In one of the smaller springs there 
were a number of little pink worm-hke animals that were 
swimming about and chnging with their mouths to the 
sides of the rock. Riding back to Tingri by a different way 
across the plain, I saw a number of kiang and a few goa, 
but they were very wild and would not allow us to approach 
to within 500 yards. I also passed three of the handsome 
black-necked cranes. The way across the plain was rather 
boggy, and we had some difficulty in finding it. When 
I got back I found that Heron had come in for a couple of 
nights, and the following day Wheeler too joined us, having 
walked in from Nezogu, the bridge over the Kyetrak River. 
He was anxious to develop some photographs, and as the 
weather was very bad, he could do no good by remaining 
in his high camp. 

On July 20 we had very brilliant flashes of hghtning, 
followed by a heavy storm of rain during the night. This 
was too much for the flat earth roof of the rest-house, and 
the water poured into aU our rooms, causing us to move 
our beds many times during the night in search of a dry 
spot. I started ofi early in the morning as I had intended 
to chmb the hUls to the East of Tingri, but the rain that 
had fallen at Tingri had meant a heavy fall of snow on the 
mountains and the snow had fallen as low down as 15,000 
feet. We passed several goa on the way, but they were too 
shy to allow us to get a shot, also some kiang, which were 
very tame, and showed up well in the snow. As we got 
higher, the snow became about 4 inches deep, but was 
melting rapidly. The glare and the heat were intense. I 
saw a good many flocks of burhel, but no very large heads. 
The views as I followed the crests of the hflls were extremely 
fine ; on the North I looked down into the vaUey of the 
Bhong-chu, which was in flood and had fiUed the whole of 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 101 

the bottom of the valley with water, and on the other side 
I looked over the Tingri Plain to the great range of snow 
peaks which finally ended in the mighty mass of Gosainthan. 
The weather had been very hot and oppressive all day, 
and as usual in the evening we had another very severe 
thunderstorm with heavy rain all through the night. The 
following day was more like an English November day— ^ 
cold and grey with drizzling rain — and with the snow on 
the hills down to 15,000 feet. I bought a Tibetan pony 
during the morning for the large sum of £7. It was a bay, 
an excellent ambler, and very surefooted. The Tibetan 
name by which he was known was Dug-dra-kyang-po, which 
means " The bay pony Uke a dragon." 

I went over to have lunch with the Depon's representa- 
tive. His family were all dressed up very smartly for the 
occasion, the women folk wearing their best head-dresses 
of turquoises, coral and pearls. He gave us rice and raisins 
as a hors d'oeuvre, and an entree of junket, followed by some 
pickled turnips, which I thought very nasty, after which 
we had the usual macaroni and mince. He had been very 
friendly and kindly to us the whole time that we were at 
Tingri, and had always supplied us with everything we asked 
for. On July 22 we saw a very fine solar halo with well- 
marked rings of yellow, brown, green and white, but the 
rain continued steadily nearly all the time. The day before 
we were to leave Tingri I sent away my orderly, together 
with two coolies who had been sick, and whom the doctor 
had recommended that we should send back to Darjeeling. 
They were given sufficient food to take them back to 
Darjeeling and an extra fifteen days' pay, the orderly also 
being given a horse to ride. Towards evening the weather 
improved and we had some lovely views of Mount Everest 
and that great group of snow peaks of which Cho-Uyo is 
the highest. They all looked very white under their new 
coating of snow, which lies thickly down to 16,000 feet. 

On July 24 we eventually got off from Tingri ; the last 
few days had been spent in packing up and re-arranging 



102 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

all the stores. There was the usual talking, shouting and 
arguing, but aU the loads were eventually packed on to 
the animals, or loaded on to the backs of the coolies by- 
nine o'clock. We then took a last farewell of the Depon's 
representative, who was very sorry to see us go, and who 
had done so much to make our stay pleasant there. 

The first march was to Nezogu, where there was a bridge 
over the Kyetrak; this was about 19 miles, partly across 
the Tingri Plain and then over a tiresome moraine. While 
crossing the moraine, I shot a goa which had quite a good 
head. Wheeler had accompanied me, as he had left his 
camp at the bridge, and on arrival there we found his 
tents aU pitched and his cook waiting ready to receive us. 
Our own kit did not arrive tUl it was getting dark, when 
the weather looked very ominous. Rain fell steadily most 
of the night, and just before dawn this turned to snow, 
so that when we woke up there were a couple of inches of 
fresh snow on the ground. As it was still snowing steadily, 
we were in no great hurry to start, and did not get off until 
nine o'clock. The weather than gradually improved and 
the fresh snow soon melted, though the ground was left 
in a very boggy condition. The march to Chobu was about 
15 miles over the easy Lamna Pass. Knowing the way, I 
chmbed on to a ridge to the South, where I had a fine view 
again of Mount Everest and the Rongbuk VaUey. We 
pitched our camp on the far side of the Rongbuk River, 
o;ir loads being carried across the frail bridge by the vUlagers, 
and our ponies being swum across. Here MaUory and 
BuUock joined us. They had been experiencing latterly 
very bad weather in the Upper Rongbuk Valley, and 
constant heavy falls of snow had seriously hindered their 
reconnaissance work. Their coohes, too, were getting 
rather tired and stale from remaining at such heights for 
a considerable time, and were badly in want of a rest. I 
had therefore arranged for them to meet me here and to 
accompany me round to Klharta, from which place they 
could then explore the Eastern approaches of Mount Everest, 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 103 

During the night I suffered much from inflammation of the 
eyes, due to the snow that had fallen the day before. They 
were so painful as to make sleep quite impossible. I was 
not, however, the only one to suffer, as Chheten Wangdi, 
the interpreter, Acchu, the cook, and several of the coolies 
that were with me were all suffering from the same com- 
plaint in the morning. Though the sun had not been 
shining and the day had been misty, the glare from the 
new snow had been very much more powerful than anything 
we had expected and taught us a lesson that whenever 
there was the shghtest fall of snow, we should always wear 
our snow goggles. From Chobu we marched to Rebu — 
a distance of about 15 miles. Knowing the way, I took 
MaUory and Bullock by the upper road over a pass to 
Halung ; from the top of this pass we branched off on to 
a spur where there was a very fine view of Mount Everest 
and the mountains to the North and North-east of it. 
There had been so much fresh snow everywhere that it 
was often very difficult to recognize the peaks, but Mount 
Everest from this side looked as impossible as ever with 
the great black bands of perpendicular chffs that seemed 
to encircle it. 

The day was actually fine and the march was a pleasant 
one through a fertile valley full of fields of barley, mustard 
and peas. The wild flowers aU round Rebu were still very 
beautiful. Our camp was pitched on a grassy spot on the 
bank of a rushing stream and close to the village of Rebu. 

The following morning the weather was again fine, and as 
the yaks were aU ready for us, we were started by 7.30 a.m. 
This start was quite amusing ; we ourselves had first to cross 
a flooded stream over which there was a very wobbly 
stone bridge. With much excitement and noise the yaks 
were then driven across the stream, but the current was 
too strong for the bullocks, which had to be unloaded 
and their loads carried over. While this was being done, 
the bridge collapsed, and a good lady and a bullock that 
were trying to get over by the bridge aU fell into the 



104 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

water together. There was then a terrible excitement and 
mix-up, every one shouting and screaming, but they both 
scrambled safely to the shore, and beyond a wetting, no 
one was any the worse. We then took the road that I had 
travelled three weeks before over the Doya La. Knowing 
that there was a good view to be got from the top of the 
pass, I hurried ahead and chmbed a rocky hiU, 17,700 feet, 
close to the pass, where I saw a wonderful scene. Range 
upon range of snowy mounttains extended right away to 
Kanchenjunga, and the course of the Arun could be traced 
wandering down through Nepal, while to the South towered 
up the great walls of Makalu. Mount Everest itself I could 
not see, as there were a good many clouds about, but to the 
South-west were some fine snow and rock peaks of which 
I took several photographs. I then basked in the sun for 
a couple of hours and enjoyed the view. The wild flowers 
on the top of the pass were dehghtful ; I found three difierent 
kinds of gentians and the blue poppies were as numerous as 
ever. The primulas, however, had many of them already 
gone to seed, but the saxifrages still covered the rocks, 
and it was a delight to wander along and note the difiEerent 
varieties. Riding on to Chulungphu, we found tents pitched 
for us and fuel and milk all ready. In place of the primulas 
the ground was now carpeted with gentians. From here 
to Kharta the march was only a short one, but we thoroughly 
enjoyed riding along between the bushes of wild rose or 
juniper. The former were no longer in blossom, but there 
were many other new varieties of flowers appearing. I 
rode on ahead to the spot that I had chosen, three weeks 
previously, for our new base camp, and I found that Hopa- 
phema had already pitched some tents for us. He had also 
prepared a meal for us and made every arrangement for 
our comfort. Our camp was pitched under the willows 
and poplar trees in the garden, and it was pleasant to hear 
the rustle of the leaves in the wind once more. We were 
now at a height of only 12,300 feet, and the change in 
altitude was a very great rehef to the climbing party and 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 105 

the coolies who had come down from the high camps. 
There were also plenty of green vegetables to be got here, 
and the coolies appreciated the change enormously. Just 
below us flowed the Arun, now a majestic river over a 
hundred yards wide. A mile lower down in its course it 
entered into the great gorges in which within a space of 
20 miles it dropped from 12,000 feet to 7,500 feet, a drop 
of over 200 feet in the mile. From our camp we used to 
watch the Monsoon clouds come up every day through the 
gorge in thin wisps, but every day they melted away always 
at the same spot ; and though rain fell heavily a mile below 
us, yet with us the sun shone brightly, and it was rare for 
any rain to reach us. Twenty miles away to the North 
again were heavy clouds and storms, and rain fell there 
daUy, so that we seemed to be living in a dry zone between 
the two storm systems. The forests of jSr and birch trees 
came up to the limit of the rainfall and then ceased suddenly 
where the rain stopped a mUe below us. At this point the 
Kharta River formed a sharp dividing line between the wet 
and dry zones. 

The next day was spent in settling down, arranging all 
our stores and making a new dark room in the house we 
had rented. The climate here was delicious and a great 
change from Tingri. The temperature in my tent used to 
go up to 75° Fahr. during the day. 

The day after we arrived the Jongpen came down to 
pay an official call and brought a welcome present of a 
hundred eggs and five animals laden with fuel. He apolo- 
gised for not coming the day before, but said he had been 
very busy trying a murder case where eighteen people 
had been poisoned by a family that had a feud with them, 
the poison used being aconite, with which they were evidently 
quite famihar. He told us that our coolies could collect 
fuel anyvsrhere on the right bank of the Kharta River, but 
begged that we would not collect it anywhere near where 
we were hving, as the villagers would object. 

On July 30 I started off to explore a neighbouring pass 



106 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

and valley which looked interesting. Mallory and Bullock 
were having a few days' rest before starting ofi again, and 
so they remained in camp. Riding a few miles up the Kharta 
Valley, I crossed the river by a bridge at the first village, 
and then had a very steep and stony climb of nearly 3,000 
feet to the Samchung Pass, 15,000 feet. As we approached 
the pass, and entered a moister climate, the vegetation 
increased rapidly. On these slopes there were rhododen- 
drons 5 feet high, mountain ash, birch, willows, spiraeas 
and juniper. At the top of the pass there was not much of 
a view, but prowHng round I came across some very fine 
saussurseas with their great white woolly heads and a 
wonderful meconopsis of a deep claret colour that I had never 
seen before. There were fifteen to twenty flowers on each 
stem, and it grew from 2 to 3 feet high. Eight varieties 
of gentians also grew in the same vaUey, and a quantity of 
other attractive Alpine plants. From the pass we descended 
about 500 feet into a delightful high level glen full of small 
lakes, evidently once upon a time formed by glaciers which 
must have filled the whole of the valley. I counted fourteen 
lakes in this valley, two or three of them being nearly half 
a mile long, and aU of them of different colours varying 
from a turquoise blue to green and black. For some miles 
we rode and walked up the valley. The road consisted of 
big loose stones, often with water flowing underneath them, 
and usually with big holes in between, so that our ponies 
were lucky in not breaking their legs. There was then 
a steep chmb which brought us on to a second pass, the 
Chog La, 16,100 feet, close to which were three small glaciers. 
Across the top of the pass there was a wall buUt many years 
ago as a second line of defence against the Gurkhas, the 
first line being on the top of the Popti Pass. Unfortunately 
the clouds now came up, and it began to rain, so that we 
had no view into the Kama VaUey, though later on I was 
to make the acquaintance of this most charming vaUey. 
For an hour and a half I sheltered behind the wall, but 
as the clouds did not lift I returned towards Kharta. 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 107 

As we descended into tlie valley again the glimpses of the 
lakes seen between the mists reminded me much of the 
upper lakes at KUlarney. There were the same ferns, 
wUlows, birch and rhododendrons, and much the same 
moist atmosphere. 

Next day, with Bullock, I went to pay an official visit 
to the Jongpen at Kharta Shiga. He had made great pre- 
parations to receive us, and had put up a large tent in which 
Chinese carpets and tables were set out with pots of flowers 
arranged all round. Soon after our arrival we were given 
a most copious meal : bowl after bowl of well cooked macaroni 
and mince Avith pickled radishes and chiUies were set before 
us. After we had finished this meal, I induced the Jongpen 
and his young wife to be photographed. She had a most 
elaborate head-dress of coral and pearls, with masses of 
false hair on either side of her head. It was not becoming. 
Barely had we finished taking the photograph when another 
meal was put in front of us : this time it consisted of Tibetan 
dumplings and mince patties, of which I gave the Jongpen's 
little dog the greater part surreptitiously ; I then hurried 
off before I should be compelled to eat a third meal. 

On August 2 Mallory and Bullock started off with thirty- 
two cooHes to explore the Eastern approaches to Mount 
Everest. It had been very hard to get any information 
about Mount Everest. The people knew the mountain by 
name, but told us that the only way to get near it was by 
crossing over the ridge to the South of the Kharta VaUey, 
when we should find a big vaUey that would lead right up 
to Chomo-lungma. Where the Kharta River came from 
they could not teU me, and whether it took its source from 
the snows of Mount Everest they did not know. Tibetans' 
ignorance of any valleys outside their own was reaUy extra- 
ordinary. I could seldom get any definite information about 
places outside their valley, and on asking two or three 
people, they would invariably give contradictory answers. 
It was the same as regards distance. They would tell you 
a place was one, two or three days' march away, but for 



108 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

shorter distances tliey had no time-table, and the nearest 
approach to this was a measurement by cups of tea. I 
remember one day asking a vUlage yokel how far off the 
next village was, and he surprised me by answering, " Three 
cups of tea." Several times afterwards I got the answer 
to a question about distance given me in cups of tea, and 
I eventually worked out that three cups of tea was the 
equivalent of about 5 miles, and was after that able to use 
this as a basis for measurements of distances. 

Two or three hours after MaUory and Bullock had gone, 
WoUaston and Morshead arrived from then: trip to Nyenyam. 
They had had bad weather the whole time. Here, too, 
the weather remained overcast and threatening, with a strong 
South wind, the mountains remaining covered in clouds 
above 16,000 feet. To the South of us rain fell steadily 
aU day, but the rain did not come up as far as our camp. 
One afternoon Morshead, WoUaston and I went over to 
have tea with our hospitable Zemindar Hopaphema about 
a mile away from us. On this occasion he gave us pods of 
fresh peas and the red hips and haws of the wild rose as a 
kind of hors d'oeuvre, followed by a junket served with pea 
flour. Then came bowls of hot milk with macaroni and 
minced meat, seasoned with chiUies, together with potatoes 
and a kind of fungus that grew in the woods. After this 
meal, from which we suffered no iU effects, for our stomachs 
were getting accustomed to queer foods, he produced an 
old painted musical instrument with two sounding boards, 
on which he played and sang at the same time some old 
Tibetan love songs. Some of these had quite a catcldng 
and plaintive melody. He showed us also some Tibetan 
dances. Our interpreter, unfortunately, refused to give us 
a Kteral translation of some of the love songs, though he 
seemed very amused at them. 

Another afternoon I rode with WoUaston some 5 mUes 
up the Kharta VaUey to the Gandenchofel Monastery. 
This was situated in a dehghtfuUy sheltered spot surrounded 
by poplars and ancient gnarled juniper trees of great size. 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 109 

On arrival we were shown into a picturesque courtyard, 
the walls of which were covered with paintings depicting 
scenes from the life of Buddha. Cushions and tables had 
been arranged for our reception and placed on a verandah 
where, on arrival, we were given cups of tea and hot mUk. 
The Head Lama presently came out and after taking some 
tea with us, proceeded to show us round his temple. This 
was a curious building, square in shape, and surmounted 
by a cupola. It was very sohdly built of stone and was, 
they told us, about 500 years old. It was founded by a 
saint called Jetsun-Nga-Wang-Chhofel, who after a great 
flood which swept down the valley, destroying aU the houses 
in it, had taken a large frog (which animal is beheved to 
represent the Water God) and buried it under the centre 
pillar of the temple. With great reverence they showed 
us the spot under which this unfortunate frog had been 
immured in the centre of the shrine. This immolation of 
the frog had apparently not been completely efficacious in 
preventing the floods as two other floods had subsequently 
occurred, and two smaU Chortens had been erected to make 
quite certain that the frog could not get out again and cause 
more floods. The interior of the temple was very dark 
in spite of numerous butter lamps. As our eyes gradually 
became accustomed to the dim light, we made out three 
figures of Buddha — a large one in the centre and smaUer 
ones on either side. On the piUars were figures of the saint 
who had founded the monastery. In this temple were also 
represented some Indian saints, but these were shown as 
dark figures, very black and very ugly. Tibetans always 
despise the Indian and they therefore represent him as quite 
black and with the ughest features imaginable. Around 
the shrine were twelve great plaster figures — about 12 feet 
to 15 feet in height — the guardians of the shrine, figures 
monstrously ugly, and evidently made so in order to frighten 
away the evil-doer. Outside the sanctuary there was a 
curious passage in the thickness of the walls leading all 
round the building, in which were stenciUed and painted 



110 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

curious representations of Buddha. In one of the side rooms 
there was a huge prayer wheel, which rang a beU every 
time it was turned ; it contained, the priests told us, many 
million prayers. After visiting the shrine, I took a photograph 
of the monks with their long trumpets, their bejewelled 
clarionets and their drums. After our tour of inspection 
we were given further refreshment in the way of macaroni 
and meat in a small secluded garden where the monks used 
to walk reading the Scriptures and meditating. 

On another day Wollaston and I made an excursion down 
to the gorges of the Arun. We first rode up the Kharta 
Valley, crossing the river by the first bridge, and then following 
the right bank of the river as far as we could go. After 
riding only a short way, we entered into a country and a 
scenery where we might have been a hundred mUes away 
from Tibet. The change was extraordinarily sudden — 
a dense forest covered the hillsides, mostly of fir {Abies 
Webbiana) and birch, many of them fine old trees. The 
undergrowth consisted of rhododendrons, 8 feet to 10 feet 
in height and extremely difficult to get through. Besides 
these there were many larch and willow trees growing on 
the hillside, together with many new and delightful flowers. 
We went on untU we were brought up by a series of per- 
pendicular chSs that descended 700 feet sheer down to the 
river below us. It was a grand sight from here to see the 
mighty Bhong-chu or Arun River, narrowed now to one-third 
of its former width, forcing its way in a series of rapids 
through these stupendous gorges covered with woods wherever 
the precipices allowed a tree to grow and with trees dipping 
their branches far below us in the flooded waters of the 
river. On the opposite side of the gorge we saw a small 
track wandering along the clifis ; the inhabitants told us 
it was impossible to get across the river lower down at this 
time of the year untU you reach Lungdo, where there was a 
bridge some 20 miles lower down. Kharta now remained 
the base headquarters of the Expedition until it was time 
to return to India in October, and all the expeditions that 



THE MOVE TO KHARTA 111 

we made up the Kharta Valley, or into the Kama Valley, 
were made from Kharta. The Jongpen there and Hopaphema 
did everything they could to assist us by giving us coolies 
and arranging for supplies to be sent up to the various 
camps. 



CHAPTER VII 
THE KAMA VALLEY 

We had not been able to gather much information locally 
about Mount Everest. A few of the shepherds said that 
they had heard that there was a great mountain in the next 
vaUey to the South, but they could not tell us whether 
the Kharta River came from this great mountain. The 
easiest way to get to this vaUey, they told us, was by crossing 
the Shao La, or the Langma La, both of which passes were 
to the South of the Kharta Valley, and, they said, led into 
this new valley. They called this vaUey the Kama VaUey, 
and Httle did we reahse at the time that in it we were going 
to find one of the most beautiful valleys in the world. MaUory 
and Biillock had aheady left Kharta on August 2 to explore 
this route, which we thought would lead us to the Eastern 
face of Mount Everest. As WoUaston and Morshead had 
now arrived at Kharta, there was nothing to prevent my 
following the others and learning something about the 
geography of the country. Eleven mule-loads of rations, 
consisting of flour, potatoes, sugar and rations for the 
surveyors, had just arrived ; there was therefore now no 
cause for me to worry about shortage of supplies. These 
had been sent off from Yatung on June 15, but had only 
arrived at Klharta on August 2. Learning that I was about 
to start ofi, Hopaphema, the old Zemindar, hurriedly came 
round with a large basket full of spinach, potatoes, and 
turnips, which he insisted on my taking with me. 

On August 5, taking with me Chheten Wangdi and a 
dozen coohes, I started oflE in the tracks of Mallory and 
Bullock. For the first few miles we travelled up the Kiarta 
Valley, through rich fields of barley, by far the best that I 



THE KAMA VALLEY 113 

had seen so far in Tibet. The crops were very even and 
everyvrhere quite 3 feet in height. The valley was thickly 
inhabited, contaming villages nearly every mile, and many 
monasteries, some of which were surrounded by fine old 
gnarled juniper trees. Our local coohes made very poor 
progress, taking six hours to cover the first 6 miles, as 
they stopped at every village for a drink. After passing 
the last village, there was a steep climb of 1,000 feet. Here 
our coolies were very anxious to stop and spend the night, 
but I pushed on ahead, and they came on behind very slowly 
and reluctantly. Seeing that it was impossible to get over 
the Langma La, I stopped at the limit of firewood and camped 
at a height of 16,100 feet. Poo, who was acting as my cook, 
had forgotten to bring any matches with him, and I watched 
him with much interest fighting a fire of damp rhododendron 
bushes with the flint and tinder that he always carried. 
The day had been clear and very warm ; and on the way 
up we had had some fine views of the great snowy peaks 
on the Eastern side of the Arun River. The villagers had 
told us that this pass was impossible for ponies, and I accord- 
ingly left mine behind at Kharta, though we found out that 
ponies could quite well have crossed the pass. Opposite 
our camp was a peak of black rock with a glacier just below 
it. During the night there was a Httle rain and the morning 
was unfortunately cloudy. As our coolies had informed us 
that there were three passes to be crossed in the next march, 
I had them aU started off by 5.30 a.m., after which I left 
with my cooHes, Ang Tenze and Nyima Tendu, who always 
accompanied me carrying a rifle, a shot-gun and three cameras 
of different sizes. Above the camp there was a steep chmb 
of 1,000 feet on to a broad, rocky shelf in which was a pretty 
turquoise-blue lake. This was followed by another steep climb 
of 500 feet on to another great shelf, after which a further 
chmb of 500 feet brought us to the top of the Langma La, 
18,000 feet. The three steps up to this pass were evidently 
the three passes that the coolies had told us about, as from 
the top we looked down into the next valley. All the coohes 

M.S. I 



114 THE NAREATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

who were carrjdiig loads complained of headaches, due no 
doubt to the steep chmb and the high elevation of the pass. 
To the East there was a curious view looking over the Aran 
towards some high snow peaks. Clouds were lymg in patches 
everywhere on the hillsides, as the air was saturated with 
moistui'e. To the West our gaze encountered a most wonderful 
amphitheatre of peaks and glaciers. Three great glaciers 
almost met in the deep green valley that lay at our feet. 
One of these glaciers evidently came down from Mount 
Everest, the second from the beautiful chfis of Chomolonzo, 
the Northern peak of Makalu, of which we unfortmiately 
could only get occasional and partial ghmpses, an ice or 
rock chfE peeping out of the clouds every now and then at 
mcredible heights above us. The third glacier came from 
Kama Changri, a fine peak to the North of the Kama VaUey 
which later on we climbed. The clouds kept mostly at a height 
of about 22,000 feet, and prevented us from seeing the tops 
of the mountains. After waiting for an hom' at the top of 
the pass in hopes of the clouds lifting, I started the descent, 
catching on the way a very pretty Marmot rat, with huge 
eyes and ears for his size, and a pretty bluish grey fur. 
Meeting shortly afterwards some of MaUory and Bullock's 
coohes, I gave this animal to them to take back to Wollaston. 
We now descended through grassy uplands for nearly 3,000 
feet, past another beautiful blue lake called Shurini Tso, 
and came to a cmious long and narrow terrace about 
1,000 feet above the bottom of the valley. Here there 
was a tent belonging to some yak herds ; and as wood and 
water were plentiful I determined to stop and spend the 
night with them. They called the place Tangsham. It was 
certainly a most glorious place for a camp, for it overlooked 
three great valleys and glaciers. Opposite us, on the other 
side of the vaUey, were the immense chffs of Chomolonzo, 
which towered up to nearly 26,000 feet, wliUe Mount Everest 
and its great ridges filled up the head of the valley. I spent 
the whole afternoon lymg among the rhododendrons at 
15,000 feet, and admhmg the beautiful ghmpses of these 



THE KAMA VALLEY 115 

miglity peaks revealed by occasional breaks among the 
fleecy clouds. The shepherds were able to give me much 
information about the district, which proved very useful 
to us afterwards. They come up here every year for a few 
months in the summer and in the winter cross over to the 
valley of the Bong-chu. 

After a shght frost durmg the night, we had one of the 
few reaUy perfect days that fell to our lot in the Kama 
VaUey. As soon as I had finished breakfast I cUmbed up 
1,000 feet behind the camp ; opposite me were the 
wonderful white chffs of Chomolonzo and Makalu, which 
dropped almost sheer for 11,000 feet into the vaUey below. 
Close at hand were precipices of black rock on which, in 
the dark hoUows, nestled a few dirty glaciers. Mount Everest 
being some way further off, did not appear nearly as imposing. 
Our object now was to get as close to it as possible ; we 
therefore descended into the valley, a steep drop of nearly 
1,000 feet, through luxuriant vegetation. A very beautiful 
blue primula was just beginning to come out. This WoUaston 
had already discovered a fortnight before near Lapchi-Kang. 
We then crossed the Eabkar Chu, a stream which came out 
of the Rabkar Glacier, by a very rickety bridge over which 
the water was washing. Beyond this was a very fertile 
plain covered with rhododendrons, juniper, wiUow and 
mountain ash. On it were a couple of small huts which 
were occupied by some yak herds. From here we had to 
follow along the edge of the Kang-do-shung Glacier which, 
coming down from Chomolonzo, plunges across the valley 
untU it strikes against the rocks of the opposite side. Between 
the glacier and these chffs was an old water-course up which 
we travelled, but stones kept frequently falling from the 
chffs above and the passage was somewhat dangerous. 
This had evidently been the old channel of the stream that 
has its source in the glaciers of Mount Everest, but owing 
to the advance of the Kang-do-shung Glacier, is now compelled 
to find its way through this glacier and hurls itself into a 
great ice cavern in it. Opposite this ice cavern we had a 



116 THE NAERATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

steep climb for 500 feet, and found ourselves among pleasant 
grassy meadows, after a few miles of which we came to a place 
called Pethang Riagmo, where we found some yak herds 
living. We found that MaUory and Bullock had chosen this 
place to be their base camp. It was a most dehghtfully 
sunny spot at 16,400 feet, right under the gigantic and 
marvellously beautiful cUffs of Chomolonzo, now all powdered 
over with the fresh snow of the night before and only separated 
from us by the Kangshung Glacier, here about a mile wide. 
Great avalanches thunder down its sides all the day long 
with a terrifying sound. Everest from here is seen to fiU 
up the head of the vaUey with a most formidable circle of chffs 
overhung by hanging glaciers, but it is not nearly such a 
beautiful or striking mountain as Makalu or Chomolonzo. 
The shepherds would insist that Makalu was the higher of 
the two mountains, and would not beheve us when we said 
that Mount Everest was the higher. Next morning was 
foggy, but there was a ghmpse of blue sky behind the mists, 
so after breakfast I hurried up the vaUey, intending to cHmb 
a ridge exactly opposite to Mount Everest which I had marked 
down the night before. After walking for an hour up the 
vaUey in a thick fog, by luck I struck the right ridge, which 
proved a very steep chmb. Glimpses of blue sky and white 
peaks, however, gave us hopes of better views higher up. 
It took me two and a half hours to cUmb 3,000 feet, which 
at last brought me above the mists. The top of the ridge 
was 19,500 feet high, and from it we had most superb views. 
Mount Everest was only 3 or 4 miles away from us. From 
it to the South-east swept a huge amphitheatre of mighty 
peaks culminating in a new and unsurveyed peak, 28,100 feet 
in height, to which we gave the name of Lhotse, which in 
Tibetan means the South Peak. From this side the mountain 
appeared quite uncHmbable, as the cliffs were all topped 
with hanging glaciers, from wliicli great masses of ice came 
thimdering down into the vaUey below aU the day long. 
Between Mount Everest and Makalu, on the watershed 
between Tibet and Nepal, there stands up a very curious 




Ci.u'Fs OF Chomol6\7,o 
from camp at Petliang Ringmo. 



THE KAMA VALLEY 117 

conical peak, to which, we gave the name of Pethangtse. 
On either side of it are two very steep, but not very high, 
passes into Nepal ; both of them are, however, probably 
unchmbable. To the South-east towered up the immense 
chffs of Makalu, far the more beautiful mountain of the 
two. The whole morning I spent on this ridge, talcing 
photographs whenever opportunity offered. The clouds 
kept coming up and melting away again and were most 
annoying, but they occasionally afforded us the most beautiful 
glimpses and peeps of the snow and rock peaks by which 
we were surrounded. At a height of over 19,000 feet, I had 
a great chase after a new kind of rat ; but it finally eluded 
me, and I was not able to add it to our aheady large collection. 
Even at these heights I found both yeUow and white saxifrages 
and a blue gentian. From the top of this ridge I had been 
able to see Kanchenjunga and Jannu, though nearly 100 
miles away, but their summits stood up out of the great sea 
of clouds which covered Nepal. 

On returning to camp in the afternoon, I found that 
MaUory and BuUock were there. They had cHmbed a snow 
peak on the North side of the Kama VaUey, about 21,500 
feet, and from this view point had been unable to discover 
a possible route up Mount Everest on the Eastern face ; 
they thought, however, that there might be an alternative 
approach from the next valley to the North. They therefore 
intended returning to the lOiarta VaUey to follow that river 
to its source. 

Next morning was cloudy, and neither Everest nor Makalu 
were to be seen ; but towards the East the view was clear, 
though the mountains appeared to be much too close. We 
started aU together down the valley. On the way I chmbed 
1,000 feet up among the rocks opposite to the big 
glacier that descends from Chomolonzo. I failed, however, 
to get the good view of Makalu which I had been hoping 
for, owing to the clouds, and returned to my old camping 
ground at Tangsham, MaUory and Bullock branching oS 
from here towards the Langma La. The shepherds had told 



118 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

us that there was another pass into the Kharta Valley called, 
the Shao La, rather more to the South. I therefore uitended 
to make use of this pass on the return journey to Kharta. 
As usual, in the evening, the clouds came up and enveloped 
us in a thick mist. Every night this happened in the Kama 
Valley, and was evidently due to the excessive moistxire of 
the air. When we started the following morning, there was 
stiU a thick Scotch mist wMch made the vegetation very 
wet. We descended the Kama Valley, most of the time 
keeping liigh up above the river. On the opposite side of 
the vaUey were immense black cHffs descending sheer for 
many thousand feet. On the way we passed through acres 
of blue iris, mostly over now, and then through a very 
luxiiriant vegetation which grew more and more varied 
as we descended lower. There was a lovely emerald-green 
lake beside the path, and hke white sentinels on the hillsides 
grew the great rhubarb of Sikldm, the Rheum nobile. This 
was a most conspicuous plant with columns of the palest 
green leaves sheathing the flower spikes which grew fully 
5 feet in height. There were several other varieties of rhubarb 
here, but none were as handsome as this. At one place we 
descended as low as 13,000 feet and came once more amongst 
dense forests of juniper, silver firs {Abies Wehhiana), mountain 
ash, willow, birch and tall rhododendrons. Erom every 
tree hung long grey hchens attesting the moisture of the 
cHmate. Wherever there was an open space ua the forest, 
it was carpeted with flowers. Two delightful varieties 
of primula were new to me, and were just commg out, one 
of them being almost black ui colour. The big deep red 
meconopsis grew here, too, in great luxuriance. Gentians 
of all kinds abounded and many other varieties of flowers 
and ferns, due to the fact that Makalu seems to attract 
aU the storms, causmg the moist Monsoon cm^rents to be 
drawn into this valley. As the day went on, the weather 
improved ; the sun came out, and the clouds melted away, 
disclosing the magnificent peaks of Makalu. A big glacier 
descended from the East face from a side valley into the 




The Kama Valley. 



THE KAMA VALLEY 119 

floor of the valley below us at a height of about 12,000 feet. 
It was very curious to see fir trees, birch and juniper, and 
a very luxuriant vegetation growing on either side of the 
ice and on the moraines beside it. 

Below this glacier the vaUey became quite flat with 
grassy meadows and patches of forest dotted about the 
pastures — a very unusual type of valley for the Himalayas. 
Almost opposite to this glacier we turned into a side vaUey ; 
the path and the stream that came down this valley were 
often indistmguishable. All round the vaUey were great 
black cliffs ; in one place where they were less precipitous 
the path found its way upwards. Our camp was pitched 
that night on a shelf above the cHffs where for a short time 
we had some very wonderful views. This place was called 
in Tibetan " The Field of Marigolds," though at the time 
we were there they were aU over. We were at a height of 
15,300 feet, and Makalu's two peaks were almost exactly 
opposite to us. The cloud effects were very striking ; the 
storms seemed to gather round Makalu, and first one peak 
and then the other would appear out of the great white 
cumulus clouds whose shapes changed every miaute. As 
usual, the mists came up in the evening, and we were enveloped 
in a very wet Scotch mist with a temperature of 46° Eahr. 
Next morning, instead of getting the lovely view that we had 
expected, a thick Scotch mist prevented our seeing more 
than 20 yards away. We crawled up to the top of the 
Shao La, 16,500 feet, in driving rain, but after crossing over 
it we emerged into finer weather. On the descent we passed 
several fine lakes, on the cliffs above which were numerous 
ram chakor (Himalayan snowcock). I pursued a covey of 
these, and after a chase managed to shoot one. They are 
very fine birds, weighing between 5 and 6 lb. ; they are 
extremely noisy and fond of their own voices. The parent 
birds are always very loth to leave their young, and early 
in the summer it is possible to approach very close to them ; 
but later on in the year, when the young have become nearly 
full grown, they are very wily, and having excellent eyesight. 



120 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

do not allow anyone to approach within a couple of hundred 
yards. That afternoon I arrived back at Kharta, where 
the weather had been quite fine, and where there had been 
but httle rain dui'ing my absence. 

During that night a thief broke into our store-room, 
forcing and breaking the lock outside. The only thing he 
took, as far as we could find out, was one of Wheeler's 
yak-dans (a leather mule trunk). The thief had probably 
mistaken this one for one of mine, which contained a 
considerable amount of money, and knowing that I was 
away, he thought that my kit must be packed away in the 
store-room. We informed the Jongpen and the head- 
men of the villages around of the theft, and had a couple of 
suspicious characters watched ; but we never found any 
trace of the stolen articles, which luckily were of very small 
value. For the next fortnight I remained at Kharta. 

On August 19 Heron suddenly arrived back after a 
very interesting trip, during which he had explored aU 
the moimtains North of Tingri and Shekar Dzong up to the 
Brahmaputra watershed. He had had very bad weather 
aU the time. Every night there had been heavy thunder- 
storms and practically aU the bad weather had come from 
the North. The whole country was under water, and it 
was very difficult to get about. Some of the rivers that 
we had crossed earher in the season were now a mile or more 
wide. 

On the following day Bullock and MaUory returned to 
Kharta after having explored the Upper Kharta VaUey. 
They thought that they had found a possible way up Mount 
Everest fi'om this vaUey, but at present the weather was too 
bad for them to carry on with their reconnaissance, and they 
had come down for a fortnight's rest, hoping that the Monsoon 
would be over by the beginning of September and that they 
would then be able to make a proper attack on the mountain. 
As MaUory and Bullock were hkely to be at Kharta for 
some time, WoUaston and I seized this opportunity to visit 
the lower valley of the Kama-chu. 



THE KAMA VALLEY 121 

Therefore, on August 23, with eleven of our own cooHes 
and several Tibetan cooHes, we climbed the Samchung 
Pass (15,000 feet), and then descended into the valley of 
the fourteen lakes, and after crossing the Chog La camped 
on the far side of the pass near a dark green and sacred 
lake called Ruddamlamtso. On the way we saw a new species 
of black rat in the moraine of a glacier ; but Wollaston'a 
servant, who had the collecting gun with him, was unfortu- 
nately far behind ; he was always rather fond of drink and 
loth to leave the villages. The weather was cloudy, and 
there were no views from the top of either pass. The march 
was a strenuous one, taking the coohes thirteen hours to 
cover the whole distance, and they did not arrive tUl after 
dark. The Ruddamlamtso, the lake by which we were 
camped, had wonderfully clear water ; I could see every 
stone at a depth of 20 feet, and it was evidently very deep. 
It is looked upon as a sacred lake, and to it people make 
yearly pilgrimages, walking round it burning incense and 
throwing spices into its waters. 

The following morning the clouds were low down every- 
where on the hillsides and we had no views. There was 
a steep descent for 4 miles to Sakeding — 12,100 feet, through 
the most interesting zones of vegetation. We followed 
the edge of the rushing stream, always white from the rapidity 
of its descent. On one side of the vaUey grew rhododendrons 
of many varieties and mountain ash, and on the other were 
hoary old junipers with twisted stems. Grey lichens hung 
down from every branch, and were often 5 or 6 feet in length. 
We came across some of the finest and largest red currants 
that we had yet seen. Of these we collected a great quantity, 
and they formed a very excellent stew. Birches, wild roses 
and berberis were the commonest shrubs, while nearly every 
rock was covered with an extremely pretty rose-coloured 
creeper, which in places caused the hUlsides to look quite 
pink. EarKer in the year the iris must have been a very 
beautiful sight, as we passed through acres of their leaves. 
A big yeUow rock-rose with flowers 2 inches across was 



122 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

also to be met with here, and many of the lower leaves of 
the rhododendrons were turnmg yeUow to scarlet, makuig 
a great show of colour on the dark green of the hillside. 
Deep purple-coloured primulas and monkshood, as weU 
as a curious haiiy mauve-red monkshood with a very 
graceful growth, were also to be seen. The pretty white- 
crested red-start flitted about from rock to rock, and numerous 
tits of various lands flew about in flocks from tree to tree 
as we descended. 

Sakeding (Pleasant teiTace) had been at one time a 
village of considerable size, but a pestilence sent by the 
local demon had wiped out aU its inhabitants. This demon 
was still reputed to be very active, and no one had dared 
to re-build the old houses of which the ruins, overgrown 
with weeds and bushes, could be seen here and there. It 
was a very pleasant site for a village, situated as it was 
on a terrace that projected out into the vaUey 1,000 
feet above the stream below. During the summer months 
there is quite a trade passing through this place, the Tibetans 
bringing salt from the North, and the Nepalese coming up 
from Nepal with rice, dyes and vegetables, which they 
exchange. The rate of barter at this time was two measures 
of rice or three measures of madder dye for one measure 
of salt, and no money changes hands. Everything that 
was brought here was brought on the backs of coohes, and 
these Nepalese coohes were sturdy, cheery fellows, and thought 
nothing of carrying 80 lb. of salt on their backs up and down 
the execrable paths of the district. 

From Sakeding we descended steeply through a forest 
of the finest juniper trees that I had yet seen. These grew 
80 to 90 feet high, and many of their trunks were 18 feet 
to 20 feet in circumference. As a rule they had clean stems, 
without a branch for 50 feet or 60 feet. The branches 
were aU hung with grey hchens. We now descended beside 
the muddy and tempestuous waters of the Kama-chu. The 
juniper forest gradually gave way to silver firs — ^wonderful 
trees of enormous size and great age. We passed through 



THE KAMA VALLEY 123 

many open glades, park-like in appearance, with grand 
clumps of fir trees or sycamore dotted here and there. The 
hillsides were absolutely running over with water, and 
often for several hundred yards we walked along logs put 
down to try and avoid the mud and the running water. 
As many of these rounded logs were very shppery, both we 
and our coolies had to proceed with caution, and even so 
we experienced many a fall. At Chu-tronu — 10,200 feet — 
there was a well-made wooden bridge, 60 feet long, which 
spanned the river where it flowed in a narrow channel between 
two great rocks. We crossed this bridge, and finding a 
broad open space there, I selected a spot suitable for our 
camp and ordered the coohes to cut down some of the grass 
where we intended to pitch the tents. I could not at first 
make out why they kept jumping about when thus engaged, 
but on going to investigate, I found that the place was 
alive with leeches ; however, as there was no other better 
place in which to camp, we had to make the best of it. The 
men collected some dry bamboos out of an old shepherd's 
hut which was close by ; these they burnt on the sites where 
we were to pitch our tents, hoping by this means to drive 
away the leeches. This method, however, was not very 
successful, for all that evening we were busy picking leeches 
off our clothes, legs, hands or heads. They chmbed up 
the sides of the tents and dropped down into our food, our 
cups and on to our plates. WoUaston invented the best 
way of kilhng them, which was by cutting them in two 
with a pair of scissors. Our interpreter remonstrated with 
him, as he said this method increased the number of leeches, 
thinking that both ends of them would grow. After a some- 
what restless and disturbed night, due to these leeches, 
we started off next morning to go down to the junction 
of the Kama River with the Arun. The distance as the crow 
flies was only about 6 mUes, but we did not reahse the kind 
of path that we should have to traverse. In that short 
distance we must have risen and fallen quite 5,000 feet. 
The path was never level and always very rough and stony. 



124 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

At first it led through beautifvd glades running with moisture 
and over logs buried, most of them, inches deep in the water ; 
they were, however, better to walk on than the soft mud 
there was on either side. The sUver firs were now at their 
best — trees over 100 feet in height, and with stems 20 feet 
to 25 feet in circumference. Here grew great hydrangeas 
20 feet or more in height covered with flowers. Our only 
halts on the way down, and they were pretty frequent, 
were to pick off the leeches from our clothes. We took 
them off by tens at a time ; they were very hungry, and 
varied in size from great striped horse-leeches to tiny ones 
as thin as a pin and able to penetrate anywhere. The track 
now left the upper terraces and descended very steeply 
towards the river, at times chmbing sharply upwards again 
to avoid precipitous rocks and cHfEs. During the descent, 
we gradually passed from the zone of the silver Gis into 
that of the spruce, meeting the lovely P.icea Brunoniana, which 
grew to an even greater size than the silver firs. Many of the 
trees were over 150 feet in height and without a branch for 70 
feet or 80 feet ; their stems too, were often 25 feet to 30 feet in 
circumference. This valley is so inaccessible that I am glad 
to think that these glorious forests can never be exploited 
commercially. After passing a great overhanging rock 
called Korabak, which is evidently much used as a halting- 
place, we descended steeply to the river, which now forms a 
series of cascades, leaping from rock to rock, a very remarkable 
spectacle. During the last 6 miles of its course, this river — 
the product of four large glacier streams — descends at the 
rate of 450 feet every mile. In places there were waterfalls 
of 20 feet and more, where the river hurled itself into seething 
cauldrons ; in one place I saw it confined to a breadth of 
barely 5 feet. The junction of this river with the Arun is 
only 7,500 feet above the sea ; just above the junction 
is a bridge which leads to the village of Kimonanga, a 
picturesque vfilage situated on a terrace some 700 feet 
above the river and surrounded by some fine trees. In this 
valley we came across a few blue pines {Pinus excelsa) and 



THE KAMA VALLEY 125 

also a large-leafed alder ; near its junction with the Arun 
were many trees and orchids of a semi-tropical character. 
On the opposite side of the valley is a forest of evergreen 
oak trees, but as I was unable to cross the river I could 
not say to what species they belonged. On the way we 
passed many yellow raspberries on which we slaked our 
thirst. Our guide also dug up some of the roots of the wild 
arum to show us ; it is a great flattish tuberous root, rather 
oval in shape. This the inhabitants dig up and, after allowing 
it to ferment by burying it in a hole for several days, pound 
it up, and then eat it ; it was much esteemed by the villagers. 
It is necessary to ferment it first, as otherwise the root is 
extremely poisonous. We tasted a sHce of bread made out 
of this root, and I have seldom tasted anything nastier. 
It is supposed, if not properly fermented, to cause aU the 
hair to fall out of the head ; but I should be incHned to 
imagine that it would do this even if it were properly 
fermented. Near the junction of the Kama and Arun Rivers, 
we cKmbed up on to a terrace 1,200 feet above, on which 
was situated the village of Lungdo. The great Arun gorges 
here become a considerable valley ; for 20 miles above this 
point up to Kharta the Arun runs through a narrow and 
practically impassable gorge, but here the vaUey widens 
out for a few miles and contains several villages ; a short 
distance below it enters again into another great gorge. 
The river now was in full flood and covered the whole of 
the bottom of the valley, being in places many hundred 
yards in width. At one spot, where it contracted, there 
was a well-made bridge leading to the village of Matsang. 
I was astonished to meet with maize growing at this height — 
8,700 feet. The villagers also grew cucumbers, pumpkins 
and several kinds of mUlet, including an extremely pretty red 
one. The head-man of Lungdo gave me some miUet beer, 
which was very refreshing after the long march. WoUaston 
did not care for it, but between us we managed to eat three 
large and juicy cucumbers. The head-man was very friendly ; 
and a local ofl&cial was staying here who had just come 



126 THE NARRATIVE OP THE EXPEDITION 

from KJiarta, who recognised us, and presented us with 
some excellent honey cakes. We neither of us looked forward 
to the uphOI return journey, but after five and a half hours' 
hard walking I reached camp just before dark, Wollaston 
did not arrive till later, and I had to send a cooHe with a 
lamp to bring him in. We were both of us much exhausted, 
as the day had been a long and trying one. That night 
we had a grand camp fire of rhododendron and fir logs. 
Hundreds of moths insisted on flying mto the fire instead of 
entering the tent where WoUaston was ready with his cyanide 
bottle to catch them. 

The following morning the weather was duU and cloudy, 
and did not look very promising. We determmed, however, 
to visit the Popti La, the pass between Tibet and Nepal, 
over which aU the local traf&c passes. Leaving the camp, 
we entered a smaU side vaUey to the South, the path chmbing 
steeply upwards mider big rhododendrons {R. Falconeri 
and R. Argenteum) with leaves 18 inches long. Noticing 
many of their leaves strewn on the path, I inquired the 
reason for this. Our guide informed us that the carriers 
fastened these leaves together with thhi strips of bamboo 
and thus provided an excellent waterproof cover for them- 
selves and for their loads. After chmbing about a mile, 
we saw some bamboo huts in the forest and a number of 
cows were grazing round them. These belonged to some 
Nepalese herds who come over here m the summer, bringing 
their cattle to graze. The path now followed the side of a 
rushing torrent, peaty brown in colour, which came hurrying 
down under the shade of buch, sycamore, silver firs, jmiiper 
and rhododendrons. As we ascended higher, the open spaces 
became more frequent, though the grass and weeds grew 
fully 3 feet in height, attesting the constant rainfall of this 
district. On leaving the path to collect a few seeds from 
some plants growing a short distance away from it, I found 
myself m a few moments covered mth leeches which appar- 
ently thrive here at an altitude of over 12,000 feet ; this must 
be almost a record height for these pests. The path chmbed 



THE KAMA VALLEY 127 

up steeply, the rhododendrons growing gradually smaller 
in size as we ascended. After going for four hours, we reached 
the top of the pass — 14,000 feet. Here on the top was a 
stone half hidden in a pile of rocks with a notice, written 
in Chinese characters, that this was the boundary between 
Tibet and Nepal. Across the top of the pass was a long 
wall, mostly overgrown with grass, evidently at one time 
considered to be some kuid of defence. Owing to the clouds 
being very low, we unfortunately had no view from the 
top, but just below us, on the Nepalese side, was a fine 
black lake, about half a mUe long, with an island in the centre, 
which the Nepalese called Dungepokri. On the top were 
many interesting Alpine flowers, amongst them a charming 
white potentilla with a red centre ; and a large cream-coloured 
primida, shading into deep orange. We also came across 
several new varieties of gentians. Here we rested for a 
couple of hours, hoping that the clouds might lift, but a 
nasty rain began to fall heavily. While we were waiting 
several coohes from Nepal passed by : from these we found 
out that the pass was closed by snow for five months in 
the year and that the trade market at Sakeding was closed 
by the end of October. We now turned our footsteps home- 
ward, urged on by cold showers of ram. On the descent 
we were able to collect a few seeds. Autumn was approaching, 
though the trees had not yet begun to assume their autumn 
colours owing to the warm nights. That evening in the 
camp we had an enormous bonfire of birch, juniper and 
rhododendrons, which made the prettiest blaze imaginable, 
with flames of green, blue, violet and orange. The large 
fire also helped to keep away the leeches. Heavy rain fell 
again all night, and the thermometer did not descend below 
55° Fahr. The morning, however, broke fine, and we started 
back again up the valley to Sakeding. The sun shone every 
now and then, giving us occasional ghmpses of distant glaciers 
at the head of the valley. The walk through the forest, 
with the sunhght shining on the dark green leaves of the 
rhododendron and the dripping foliage, was very dehghtful. 



128 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

The undergrowth consisted of wild roses, berberis with its 
necklaces of scarlet berries, wild currants of a great size — 
sour to the taste, but excellent when stewed — ^wild raspberries, 
Hght feathery bamboos, birch, willow and a most luxuriant 
vegetation of flowers and grasses. In one or two places 
the mountain ash were just beginning to show traces of 
colour. We soon left the leeches behind us and followed 
our old track through the forest beside the rushing waters 
of the Kama-chu. Enormous rocks which had fallen from 
above had in places almost blocked up the river. Often 
on these great boulders in the middle of the stream were 
growing the graceful Himalayan larch. On the steepest 
rock faces grew vegetation of every kind, thanks to the 
excessive moistm^e of the cUmate, and from every tree and 
from every bush hung long and picturesque Hchens. Crested 
tits and bullfinches hved in great numbers in this forest 
and gave it quite a homelike appearance. The cHmb from 
the river had been a steep one, and we pitched our camp 
at Sakeding in a downpour of rain, but towards the evening 
the weather cleared up, allowing us fine views of great snow 
peaks which showed above the mists on the opposite sides 
of the valley. It was too far to go from Sakeding to Kharta 
in one day ; we therefore decided to camp before crossing 
the Chog La. We passed om: old camp by the green lake 
Ruddamlamtso, and I had a long chase after some ram chakor, 
but they were too clever for me and ran up the hiU faster 
than I could follow them. The large moraines which con- 
verged in this valley were specially interesting, and threw 
much hght on its past history. Each moraine had its own 
long hiae of boulders formed of different kinds of rock, 
according to the character of the mountains from which they 
had been carried down by the ice. It was not difficult to 
imagine the vast glaciers by which these fines of boulders 
had been deposited ; glaciers which must at one time have 
completely blocked the vaUey and the disappearance of 
which has made room for the chain of lakes which now 
occupy the vaUey. We pitched our camp at a place called 



THE KAMA VALLEY 129 

Mendalongkyo — 15,500 feet — in a pleasantly sheltered spot 
where a gurghng stream disappeared under an old moraine. 
In the afternoon WoUaston went out after rats, of which 
he secured a new variety. Our coolies had a great chase 
after a fat marmot, which they very nearly caught, but he 
got down into his hole just in time. Around the camp 
were quantities of a very beautiful pale blue gentian — a 
regular Eton blue colour. Wandering up the spur North- 
west of the camp I counted nine lakes in the next valley 
and four lakes in the one that we were in ; as the rain 
began to fall again, I returned to camp. 

The next morning, August 29, we began our homeward 
journey to Kharta. Getting up early, we chmbed on to 
the high ridge North-west of the camp, from which we had 
a fair view ; but unfortunately both Makalu and Mount 
Everest were hidden by clouds. We waited for a long time 
in hopes of a better view, but the clouds only grew thicker. 
We therefore followed the ridge above the Chog La. On 
the way I shot a Tibetan snow partridge {Lerwa nivicola), 
an extremely pretty bird with lovely markings. This was 
the first I had seen. 

We now turned our backs upon the Kama VaUey with 
much regret. We had explored many of these Himalayan 
valleys, but none seemed to me to be comparable with this, 
either for the beauty of its Alpine scenery, or for its wonderful 
vegetation. We shall not easily forget the smiling pastures 
carpeted with gentians and every variety of Alpine flower 
that rise to the very verge of icebound and snow-covered 
tracks, where mighty glaciers descend among the forests 
which clothe the lower slopes. 

After crossing the Chog La, we went down once more into 
the vaUey of the lakes and then, crossing the Samchung La, 
descended to Kharta which we found bathed in sunshine. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY AND THE 
20,000 FOOT CAMP 

During the early part of August Mallory and Bullock, 
after they had found that there was no possible means of 
attacking Mount Everest from the Kama VaUey, crossed 
the Langma La and returned to the Kharta VaUey. Up 
this valley they now proceeded until they reached the glaciers 
in which the Kharta River has its source. After exploring 
a number of valleys, they at last found one which led straight 
to Mount Everest. Accompanied by Major Morshead, who 
had joined them during their excursion, they made a long and 
tiring reconnaissance of this valley, and satisfied themselves 
that it afforded a practicable approach to the North-eastern 
ridge of Mount Everest. The slopes were fairly gentle, but 
were at that time covered with soft fresh snow, knee deep. 
Over these snow-covered glaciers, up which they had 
proceeded with great difficulty, they found a col from which 
it was possible to attack the mountain. Under the existing 
conditions of soft snow and warm weather it would have 
been quite impossible to take laden cooHes along this route, 
and they therefore returned to Kharta to wait until the 
monsoon conditions had abated and the snow should have 
become hard and frozen. 

On our return from the Kama VaUey on August 29, we 
found Mallory and Bullock still at Kharta, waiting for the 
weather to improve. About this time it was showing distinct 
signs of improvement. The clouds were not so thick and 
there were many more bright intervals with blue skies. 
They therefore determined to start off on August 31, to 
form an advanced base camp up the Kharta VaUey. 



THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY 131 

On September 1, much to the surprise of every one, 
Raeburn arrived back from Darjeeling. He reported very- 
wet conditions throughout Tibet, the rivers everywhere 
being unfordable, and most of the bridges washed away. 
He also reported having seen five bags of our mails at Chushar. 
Our posts had latterly been very erratic, and for five weeks 
no mails had arrived. We did not know what had happened 
to them. We were sending in a couple of our own coolies 
every fortnight to Phari with our outgoing mail, and the 
first lot of these coolies had not yet returned, so that we 
were all without news of the outside world. Although it 
was the beginning of September, the night temperatures at 
Kharta were still much too high, ranging from 52° Fahr. to 
47° Fahr. On September 3 Morshead and Wheeler left for 
the Upper Kharta Valley, intending to go slowly and to 
map and fill in the detail of the valley as they went along. 

The tameness of the birds gave us many opportunities 
of studying their habits. A large family of redstarts Hved 
in our garden at Kharta, and used to amuse me very much. 
The young birds were now fully fledged and spent most of 
the day in hopping in and out of my tent ; they were not in 
the least degree afraid, and the mother would come and feed 
them actually inside my tent. On the terrace near the 
camp there were a number of prettily marked white rock 
pigeons which formed a welcome addition to our diet of 
Tibetan mutton, of which we were getting very tired. 

On September 5 WoUaston, Raeburn and I, with twenty- 
six Tibetan coolies, and eleven of our own, started off to 
join the climbing party up the Kharta Valley. The first 
7 miles of this valley I knew well, having traversed them 
many times before. The barley fields were now fast ripening, 
and were a beautiful golden colour. Curious to relate, the 
barley that grew at 14,000 feet was riper than that which 
grew at 12,000 feet. Two kinds of barley seemed to be 
grown here — ^the ordinary variety, and another with a red 
ear such as is, I believe, grown in the Shetlands. We rode 
past the tidy-looking monastery of Gandenchofel, surrounded 



132 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

by its juniper trees, and after a steep climb past the entrance 
of the vaUey leading to the Langma La, descended on to 
some fine river terraces, on which were many prosperous 
farms and weU-tilled fields. These extended for several 
more miles up the vaUey. We pitched our camp on a grassy 
flat a couple of miles above the last house, where willows, 
rhododendrons and junipers grew plentifully ; the marshy 
ground was carpeted with gentians, one of the commonest 
being dark blue in colour with ten petals, and rather Like a 
star in shape, the other being larger and of a pale Eton-blue 
colour. I managed to coUect a certain number of seeds of 
both of these. We had a grand bonfire that evening, made 
of juniper and wiUow, the last that we were to have for a 
long time. The weather was disappointing and a drizzling 
rain fell all night with a temperature of 42° Fahr. 

It was still raining when we started in the morning, so 
that there were no views. A white andromeda was still in 
flower on the hillsides, but the rhododendrons were aU over. 
On the opposite side of the vaUey juniper alone flourished 
and grew to an altitude of nearly 17,000 feet. After going 
a couple of miles, we passed Morshead and Wheeler's tents 
pitched on an old yak camp. When we arrived, they were 
still having breakfast, as the weather was too bad to do 
any surveying. On leaving themi we had a steep c lim b 
over grassy slopes, where the drizzling rain now changed 
to snow, and for the rest of the day it fell steadily. There 
appeared to be many branch valleys, and as our views in 
the mist were very curtailed, we were not at all certain as 
to whether we were going up the right valley — I only knew 
approximately the height of the place at which we were 
to camp. Therefore, on arriving at that height, I sent my 
coolies off in two different directions up two different valleys 
to see where Mallory and Bullock's camp might be. The 
mist lifted for a moment, and one of them luckily saw MaUory, 
whose camp was only a few hundred yards from us. We 
decided to call this our " Advanced base camp." It was 
pitched in some small grassy hollows at a height of 17,350 



THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY 133 

feet. The site was well sheltered from the winds, and was 
a regular Alpine garden. Gentians of three different kinds 
were growing there, including the lovely light-blue one. 
There was also a beautiful little white saxifrage with yellow 
and brown spots inside the flower, a dehghtful pink androsace, 
and dwarf delphiniums with their single deep-blue flowers. 
Here grew also the musk-scented hairy light-blue delphinium 
with its overpowering smell of musk. The latter flower, 
the Tibetans told me, was a great preventative of lice, and 
I noticed that our cooks and most of our servants had picked 
great bundles of it. They also told me that if a man habitu- 
ally wears this flower about him during his lifetime, after 
his death when cut up and exposed to the birds, no bird or 
wolf will touch his flesh owing to the strong scent apparently 
left by the musk. A pretty pink aster grew here in great 
clusters, and a few blue poppies were still out. Acchu, our 
cook, and Gyalzen Kazi, who were coming along behind us, 
both missed their way and wandered several miles further 
up the vaUey before they found out their mistake, and when 
they eventually arrived in camp, were both suffering from 
severe headaches, due to the great height. During our 
stay at this camp we had plenty of time and many oppor- 
tunities of observing bird and animal life. Some of the 
birds were very brilliantly coloured. There was a snow 
bunting with bright scarlet breast and head, also a beautiful 
redstart with red body and black and white wings. Overhead 
the great lammergeier, or bearded vulture, sailed in graceful 
circles, while the big black raven croaked on the rocks by 
the camp. Morning and evening we could hear the ramchakor 
[Tetraogallus tibetanus) calling on the opposite side of the 
valley, and with glasses we could see them chasing one 
another and running round in circles. Red foxes I met 
with on several occasions over 18,000 feet. 

Mallory and Bullock, who had already been here for a 
few days, had spent their time in carrying wood and stores 
up to a higher camp further up the valley ; they had been 
having a certain amount of trouble with their coohes, due 



134 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

to the Sirdar, who was always trying to create difficulties. 
I therefore sent him away on a job to Chushar to collect 
some of our stores which were supposed to have been detamed 
there, and which would keep him busy for a number of days 
and prevent him from interfering with our cooUes at a critical 
period. We had brought up with us six Hve sheep, and 
very lively these proved. Dukpa, MaUory's cook, let three 
of them escape, but luckily some coolies coming up the 
vaUey saw two of them, and after a great chase brought 
them back. The third they could not catch and eventually 
drove him under a cliff, where they killed him with stones 
and brought his carcass back to us. The weather continued 
very unsettled. During the night a couple of inches of snow 
feU, but until the temperature became colder and the sky 
cleared, it was no use trying to go up to the upper camp. 
I shot a ramchakor on the opposite side of the valley. They 
are the most tasty of the Tibetan birds, and are quite 
excellent eating. 

On September 8, after a frosty night, Bullock, MaUory 
and I with three coolies, for the purpose of keeping fit, made 
a httle excursion along a rocky ridge that lay to the South 
of us. On the top of the ridge there were a number of sharp 
rock pinnacles that had to be climbed. I found these gym- 
nastics at a height of over 19,000 feet to be very exhausting, 
but Mallory did not seem to mind them in the least. There 
should have been a lovely view from here, but all we got 
was an occasional glimpse of glaciers and rocky peaks through 
the mist. The sun was trying to shine tlirough the clouds 
and at first it was beautifully warm ; but after a couple of 
hours snow began to fall, so we hurriedly descended on to 
the glacier below. Snow fell aU the way back to camp, and 
by nightfall there were 3 inches of fresh snow round our 
tents. During the night the thermometer dropped to 21° 
Fahr., and the morning broke clear and frosty. I started 
o£E early to chmb the hiU behind the camp, from which there 
was a very extensive view, both Everest and Makalu being 
for the moment quite clear and free from cloud. To the 



THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY 135 

North extended a great range of snow peaks between 23,000 
feet and 24,000 feet in height, rather uninteresting in appear- 
ance, and to the East stretched a great sea of accumulating 
cloud, out of which appeared the tops of Kanchenjunga and 
Jannu. The peak on which we stood was just under 20,000 
feet ; I spent several hours basking in the hot sunshine, 
which was rapidly melting the fresh snow, I was surprised 
to find growing at this height a tiny yellow saxifrage. 

That evening eight coolies arrived with our long-expected 
mail, and the rest of the day was spent in reading letters 
and sorting out papers, for over two hundred letters and 
papers had arrived for me alone. There was again a sharp 
frost of 10° that night and the early morning was beautiful, 
but clouds came quickly drifting up the valley and obscured 
the fine views we had from the camp of Mount Everest and 
the rocky peaks to the North of the camp. On September 11, 
in spite of a warm night, MaUory and BuUock, being very 
optimistic, left for the upper camp, whUe Morshead and 
Wheeler rejoined us from their camp below, not having 
been able to do any work down there owing to bad weather. 
Snow fell steadily all the evening to a depth of about 3 inches. 
Next day was cloudy, but warm, and the snow disappeared 
again with extraordinary rapidity. I went out with a shot- 
gun to try and shoot some ramchakor, and while after them 
saw a very fine grey wolf who was also stalking the ram- 
chakor. He came up to within 50 yards of me, so that I 
was able to have a good look at him. He had a beautiful 
coat, and it was very unfortunate that I did not have a rifle 
with me. I wandered some way up a side vaUey to the 
foot of a glacier, but saw no signs of birds, as the woU had 
evidently been there before me. In the afternoon MaUory 
and BuUock returned from the upper camp, having been 
driven down by the bad weather : another 5 inches of snow 
feU that evening, so that we were kept busy beating our 
tents to keep the ridge poles from breaking. On September 
13, 14 and 15, snow fell on and oS the whole time ; but in 
spite of the bad weather I managed to shoot a burhel for 



136 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

food. Their meat is very much better than that of the tame 
sheep. On September 16 we had at last a fine day with a 
sharp frost at night. Wheeler at once seized this opportmiity 
and took up a station on a hill-top on the opposite side 
of the vaUey, from which he was able to get some useful 
views. The next day, after 13° of frost in the night, Mallory, 
Morshead and I started off to climb Kama Changri, a peak 
to the South of the camp, that overhung the Kama VaUey. 
We left the camp at 2 a.m., by the light of a fuU moon, which 
made the going as light as though it were day. We soon 
reached our view-point of a few days before, where, except 
for the distant roar of the stream far away below in the 
vaUey, there was no other sound, only an intense stiUness. 
Never anywhere have I seen the moon or the stars shine so 
brightly. To the South, far away from us, there were 
constant flashes of lightning — the valleys in Tibet, the great 
gorges of the Arun, the wooded valleys of Nepal all lay 
buried under a white sea of clouds, out of which emerged 
the higher mountains like islands out of a fairy sea. In 
this bright moonlight, mountains like Kanchenjunga — 100 
miles away — stood out sharp and distinct. Here on this 
sharp ridge, at a height of 21,000 feet, with no obstruction 
to hide the view, sunrise came to us in all its beauty and 
grandeur. To the West, and close at hand, towered up Mount 
Everest, stiU over 8,000 feet above us ; at first showing up 
cold, grey and dead against a sky of deep piirple. All of 
a sudden a ray of sunshine touched the summit, and soon 
flooded the higher snows and ridges with golden light, while 
behind, the deep purple of the sky changed to orange. Makalu 
was the next to catch the first rays of the sun and glowed 
as though alive; then the white sea of clouds was struck by 
the gleaming rays of the sun, and aU aglow with colour rose 
slowly and seemed to break against the island peaks in great 
billows of fleecy white. 

Such a sunrise has seldom been the privilege of man to 
see, and once seen can never be forgotten. After simrise 
the climbing became more unpleasant. We tried to foUow 



THE 20,000-FOOT CAMP 137 

the direct way up the mountain, but the snow was in bad 
condition and the slope very steep. We therefore crossed 
the glacier, putting on our snow-shoes, and followed easier 
snow slopes but bad owing to the soft snow. The going was 
very tiring ; MaUory and Morshead appeared to feel the 
height very much. After six hours we reached the top, 
21,300 feet, from which we had a most superb view. We 
looked straight down on to the Kama VaUey. Makalu was 
immediately opposite us with its colossal precipices. Gla- 
ciers, cliffs of ice, rock peaks, fluted snow ridges and immense 
mountains towered all around us above a vast sea of clouds 
which stretched for hundreds of miles away to the plains of 
India. Here I was able to take many photographs, but no 
photograph can adequately portray the grandeur or the 
impressiveness of such a scene. We stopped on the top of 
Kama Changri for over three hours. It was extraordinarily 
warm ; there was not a breath of air, and the sun seemed 
to shine with an intense heat. Clouds then began to roU 
up, and we returned to camp by an easier way down the 
glacier. 

Next day, in spite of 13° of frost at night, snow and sleet 
fell all day again, and made us very depressed. In order to 
prevent our going to sleep too soon after dinner, four of us 
used to play bridge every night, and I do not suppose that 
bridge has often been played at so great a height. 

On September 19, after a cold night with 16° of frost, 
Mallory, Bullock, Morshead and Wheeler started off for the 
20,000-foot camp. The weather was now steadily growing 
colder every night. On September 20 we had 18° of frost, 
as weU as a further fall of snow. During the night a very 
fine limar halo was seen, but the morning broke clear. 
WoUaston, Raeburn and I started to join the remainder 
of the party at the 20,000-foot camp, leaving Gyalzen Kazi, 
our second interpreter, behind in charge of the advance 
base camp. It was very necessary to have some one here 
to whom we could send back for any extra stores or supplies 
that might be wanted, and who would be able to forward 



138 THE NARHATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

to us anything that might be sent up from Kharta. A 
four hours' walk brought us to the camp. I had a thorough 
feeUng of lassitude all the way. It required, indeed, some 
effort to walk at all, and a strong effort, both of mind and 
body, to reach camp. On the way beautiful views of Mount 
Everest gave us encouragement. The foot of the Kharta 
Glacier descends to 19,000 feet. From that point on to 
the camp we travelled beside it. At first the glacier is cut 
up into wonderfully shaped " seracs," but as we got higher 
the surface became smoother. It was an exceptionally 
white glacier ; there were no moraines on its surface, and 
it was covered everywhere with a fresh coating of thick 
snow. We found the camp on a terrace between two glaciers. 
That above the camp resembled the pictures of a Greenland 
ice cap. A thick coating of ice, to a depth of 50 to 60 feet, 
covered the gentle slopes above us, and came down to within 
a couple of hundred yards of the camp. The draiaage from 
the melting ice percolated through the stony ground, so 
that on digging to a depth of 6 inches we came upon water. 
A couple of hundred feet below the camp was the big white 
glacier which descended from the Lhakpa La. The day was 
gloriously fine, and we obtained magnificent views of Mount 
Everest and the snowy chain to the South of us across the 
Kharta Glacier. Over the top of this snowy chain appeared 
the great rocky crests of Makalu. At an altitude of over 
19,800 feet I saw a hare and heard several ramchakor calling. 
There grew close to the camp a few gentians with their 
ciu-ious square leaves, also a dwarf blue delphinium and 
a little white saxifrage. It was an extraordinary height 
at which to find flowers and their season of summer cannot 
last long. On arrival at the camp, we found only Wheeler 
and Bullock there, as MaUory and Morshead with fom'teen 
coohes had gone on ahead to carry loads up to the Lhakpa La, 
which was to be our next camp. They returned in a very 
exhausted condition in the coiu-se of the afternoon. The 
snow, they reported, was in better condition than last time 
on the lower slopes ; but as they got higher, they found 



THE 20,000-FOOT CAMP 139 

it still very soft and powdery. These extra loads that they 
had taken up to this camp would enable the whole party 
to go up to it and to sleep there, if necessary, for several 
days. As the sun was setting behind Mount Everest, we 
were treated to a glorious view. The ring of clouds that 
svirrounded it were all touched by the bright evening sunHght, 
while the mountain itself was in deep shadow except for 
great streamers of powdery fresh snow which were being 
blown off the whole length of its crests. We stood and 
watched this extraordinary sight for some time, devoutly 
hoping that the wind would soon die down. Unfortunately 
we were soon to experience what a strong wind meant at 
these heights. 

On the following night we had 20° of frost, and the 
weather appeared to be getting rather more settled. We 
were now sufficiently high up to be above the ordinary clouds, 
and we could look down upon the great sea of them which 
overhung the Arun Valley and the greater part of Nepal. 
As the sun warmed the clouds, they used to rise higher, 
but they seldom arrived as far as our camp owing to a strong 
North-westerly wind always blowing in the upper regions 
of the air which drove them back again. Watching the 
movements of the clouds day by day gave me the impression 
that the Mount Everest group forms a dividing line between 
the two monsoon systems. The monsoon that causes so 
much rain in Sikkim comes from the Bay of Bengal, and 
these moist currents sweep up to Mount Everest, but it is 
only when the current is very strong that they pass beyond 
it. At this time of year this monsoon was stiU active, whereas 
the Arabian Sea monsoon — that is to say, the moist 
winds from the Arabian Sea — which had given us previously 
much rain and snow on the Western sides and slopes of 
Mount Everest, was now over, with the result that on the 
West side of Everest we had blue skies every day and no 
rain clouds, whereas on the East side the clouds and the 
moisture brought up by the Bengal monsoon still prevailed. 
During the course of the morning I climbed an easy hill to 



140 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

the East side of the camp and some 500 feet above it. We 
walked along at first just below the ice cap, which was very 
pretty with its long icicles gleaming in the sunHght. We 
then crossed on to the ice cap and found the snow in excellent 
condition, firm and crisp to the tread, so that it was a pleasure 
to walk along it. From the top of this hill, 20,500 feet, 
was a very fine view to the East, over the great sea of cloud 
which filled up aU the valleys as far as the Massif of 
Kanchenjunga which towered up in the distance, and the 
more slender peak of Jannu. Amongst the Sikkim peaks 
I could also recognise Chomiomo and the Jonsong peak. 
To the South Makalu towered up above all the other 
mountains : while between it and Mount Everest, beyond 
the Southern watershed of the Kama VaUey, showed up 
some of the great Nepalese peaks, among which we noted 
Chamlang, 24,000 feet. To the West of us Mount Everest 
showed up sharp and clear and very white after all the fresh 
snow that had fallen in the last month. From this side 
Mount Everest certainly looks its best, standing up as a 
solitary peak instead of being rather dwarfed by the high 
ridges that radiate from it. The weather remained fine 
all day, and it was a real pleasure to sit outside one's tent 
and bask in the sun. Though we were 20,000 feet, we had 
breakfast, lunch and tea out of doors in front of our tents, 
and we could not have been warmer or enjoyed pleasanter 
conditions if we had been down at 5,000 feet. 

On September 22, leaving Raebm'n behuid, Mallory, 
Bullock, Morshead, Wheeler, Wollaston and mj^self started 
ofE to Lakhpa La camp. We left the 20,000-foot camp in 
22° of frost at four o'clock in the morrdng, accompanied 
by twenty-six coolies, who were divided up into four parties, 
each of which was properly roped. It was a beautiful 
moonhght night, and the moimtains showed up nearly 
as brightly as in the daytime. We rapidly descended the 
200 feet from our terrace to the glacier, when we all " roped 
up." The snow on the glacier was in excellent condition, 
and as it was frozen hard we made good progress. Dawai 



THE 20,000-FOOT CAMP 141 

overtook us on the broad flat part of the glacier, the first 
beams of the sun faUing on the summit of Mount Everest, 
which lay straight in front of us, and changing the colour 
of the snow gradually from pink to orange, aU the time 
with a background of deep purple sky, every detail showing 
up sharp and clear in the frosty air. We mounted gradually 
past Kartse, the white conical-shaped peak climbed by 
Mallory and Bullock a month ago from the Kama Valley. 
We wended our way without much difficulty through the 
ice-fall of the glacier, below some superbly fluted snow ridges 
that rose straight above us. Then followed a long and at 
times a somewhat steep climb over soft powdery snow to 
the top of the pass. Even at these heights we came across 
tracks in the snow. We were able to pick out tracks of 
hares and foxes, but one that at first looked hke a human 
foot puzzled us considerably. Our coolies at once jumped 
to the conclusion that this must be " The Wild Man of the 
Snows," to which they gave the name of Metohkangmi, 
" the abominable snow man " who interested the newspapers 
so much. On my return to civflised countries I read with 
interest delightful accounts of the ways and customs of this 
wild man whom we were supposed to have met. These 
tracks, which caused so much comment, were probably caused 
by a large " loping " grey wolf, which in the soft snow formed 
double tracks rather like those of a barefooted man. Tibet, 
however, is not the only country where there exists a " bogey 
man." In Tibet he takes the form of a hairy man who 
lives in the snows, and Httle Tibetan children who are naughty 
and disobedient are frightened by wonderful fairy tales 
that are told about him. To escape from him they must 
run down the hill, as then his long hair falls over his eyes 
and he is unable to see them. Many other such tales have 
they with which to strike terror into the hearts of bad boys 
and girls. 

I reached the top of the pass (22,350 feet) by 10.30 a.m., 
and was rewarded by a wonderful view of Mount Everest, 
now only a couple of miles away. From the pass there 



142 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

was a steep descent of about 1,200 feet to a glacier which 
after many wanderings finds its way into the Rongbuk 
Glacier. This valley had never been thoroughly investigated 
by MaUory and Bullock in their visit to the Rongbuk Valley. 
It does not, however, actually form the main Rongbuk 
Glacier, but stops several mUes short of it, the entrance 
to the valley containing this huge glacier being both small 
and very insignificant. The bad weather that they had 
experienced in the Rongbuk Valley during the latter haU 
of their stay there had made it impossible for MaUory and 
Bullock to explore this valley, or see what lay at its head. 
We were now opposite the Chang La (North Col) which 
joins Mount Everest to Changtse (the North peak), and 
from this col was, so far as we were able to judge, the only 
route to the summit. The way from the glacier up to the 
Chang La looked steep and unpromising, and we doubted 
whether it would be possible to take laden coohes up, even 
to this point, I took as many photographs as I could, and 
as quickly as possible, for there was an icy wind blowing 
which almost froze my hands. This wind blew the fine 
powdery snow off aU the crests of the ridges and it penetrated 
everywhere. We found a Kttle hoUow in the snow a few 
feet below the crest, and here we set to work to pitch our 
camp. There was not much shelter, but it was the only 
possible place. We had only brought small Alpine Meade 
and Mummery tents with us. Two of us occupied each 
tent. They were very small and uncomfortable, and in 
order to enter them we had to crawl through a narrow funnel 
almost as though we were entering a dog kennel. The 
effort of crawHng in was very exhausting and caused us to 
remain out of breath for a considerable time afterwards. 
Even these small tents were with difficulty pitched owing 
to the strong winds : cooldng was quite out of the question 
untU dark when the wind temporarily lulled. We had 
brought up with us some Primus stoves and spirit lamps. 
No one, except perhaps Wheeler, was very expert with the 
Primus stove, and though no doubt under favourable con- 



THE 20,000-rOOT CAMP 143 

ditions they would be easy to work, even at these heights, 
we were never very successful with them and were forced 
to rely upon the spirit stoves. After sunset we had a scratch 
meal of consomme, which we managed to warm up, followed 
by some cold ham and biscuits, after which we retired to 
bed. The moment the sun went down there were 25° of 
frost. Up tiU now I had felt no ill-efiects from the rarefied 
air ; I had not even had a headache and my appetite was 
good, though I owned to feeling rather lazy and it always 
needed an effort to concentrate one's thoughts. The coolies 
who had accompanied us up to this camp all seemed to be 
well and were very cheerful. The eiderdown sleeping-bags 
were a great comfort ; they were our only means of keeping 
thoroughly warm with 34° of frost outside. But I cannot 
say that I felt comfortable or, in fact, that I slept at aU, 
as the snow which at most times had been much too soft, 
seemed here to freeze into uncomfortable lumps and bumps 
underneath one's back, so that I could never get comfortable 
aU night. The wind howled round our flimsy tents, and I 
do not think anyone, except perhaps Mallory, got any sleep 
that night. In the morning we were aU suffering from bad 
headaches, due to the airlessness of these little tents, and 
I am sure that anyone camping at high altitudes ought to 
have a much larger type of tent in which to sleep if he is to 
avoid headaches. We blessed the early morning sun when 
it appeared and began to unfreeze us. I noticed then that 
our faces and hands were all a curious blue colour in the 
morning, due to what is called, I believe, cyanosis of the 
blood. With much difficulty Wheeler made us a little tea, 
which if not drunk at once, froze ; Mallory thawed out some 
sardines which had all been frozen solid. There was luckily 
less wind than during the night, and as the sun rose higher, 
we all became more aUve. The coolies, too, were at first 
all torpid and complained of bad headaches, but on getting 
into the fresh air, out of their small and stuffy tents, the 
headaches rapidly passed away. After consultation, we 
decided that there was no object — in fact, that it would 



144 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

be dangerous — for the whole party to go on, so we decided 
that it would be best for the expert Alpine climbers only, 
together with a few picked cooUes, to attempt the Chang La. 
If weather conditions were favourable, they might, we 
thought, see how high they could get on Mount Everest 
itself. We therefore quickly sorted out and divided up the 
stores, and after seeing MaUory, Bullock and Wheeler off, 
unpitched our own tents, being satisfied that we could be 
of no use by remaining where we were, and that it would 
be best that we should rettu^n to our 20,000-foot camp and 
carry down with us as many stores as we could. We 
accomplished this without any difficulty, and arrived back 
during the course of the afternoon. The contrast here 
was extraordinary. We seemed to be in a totally different 
climate, and our larger tents and camp beds appeared to 
us to be the height of luxury. We spent a very comfortable 
night in spite of 22° of frost, and aU slept soundly after our 
exertions, though once or twice during the night I was 
awakened by rats gnawing at the food which had been left 
out on the boxes in my tent. One of the cooHes also started 
to say his prayers in a loud tone of voice at 1 a.m., but after 
a few winged words he relapsed into sUence. 

The next day was delightfully warm and sunny, though 
there had been during the night a good deal of hghtning 
towards the South. The snow could be seen whirling off 
the crest of Mount Everest during the morning, and in the 
course of the afternoon the wind grew much stronger, and 
blew huge clouds of snow off the slopes of the mountain, 
and from all the surrounding ridges. We could see great 
wisps of snow being blown ofi the pass that we had just 
left, so that the cHmbing party must have been having a 
very cold time in their new camp. In the evening there 
was a curious false sunset in the East with fine purple and 
orange rays, while as usual the Kama and the Kharta VaUeys 
were filled with a sea of cloud. Here, however, we seemed 
to be above and beyond the reach of the clouds. Next 
night there was again constant hghtning to the South and 



THE 20,000-rOOT CAMP 145 

23° of frost, but the weather kept fine and sunny. On 
chmbing a snow-covered hill to the West of the camp, about 
21,000 feet, I had some superb views of Everest and Makalu 
with their appalling clifEs and beautifully-fluted snow slopes. 
A strong North-westerly gale stUl continued in the upper 
regions of the air above 22,000 feet, and every ridge of Everest 
was smothered with clouds of blown snow. I had a pleasant 
glissade down steep snow slopes back to the camp, where 
the climate was delicious and where I could bask in the 
sun at the entrance of my tent with a sun temperature of 
173° Fahr. Earlier in the season we had often recorded 
temperatiires of 195° and 197° Fahr. in the sun with the 
black bulb thermometer. During the afternoon we were 
able with our glasses to see black specks appearing on the 
top of the Lhakpa La. These were the Alpine climbers 
and their coolies returning after their strenuous efforts on 
Mount Everest. We watched them with the greatest interest 
descending the glacier and wondered how far they had been 
successful. They all arrived back safely in the course of 
the evening, having been extraordinarily lucky in not having 
had any casualties or frost-bites in spite of the Arctic gales. 
Mallory wiU, however, tell of their adventures in another 
chapter. 



CHAPTER IX 

THE RETURN TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA 
VALLEY 

Winter was now rapidly approaching. Every night 
was growing steadily colder, and we were aU anxious to 
get down to lower altitudes. Every one had been feeling 
the strain of life at these high altitudes. It had been, 
however, a great rehef to us that all the party had got back 
to the 20,000-foot camp in safety, and that we had had no 
cases of sickness or frost-bite. The cooHes had throughout 
worked most willingly and to the best of their ability. They 
had been well suppHed with boots and socks, warm clothing 
of aU kinds, cap comforters and fur gloves, as well as 
blankets, and for those who had slept at the higher camps, 
eiderdown sleeping-bags had been provided capable of holding 
four or five. Here at the 20,000-foot camp we did not have 
to depend on Primus stoves or spirit lamps, as while we 
were waiting at the advanced base camp we had daily sent 
up coohes with loads of wood for our future use, and even 
during om' stay here the coolies who had been left behind 
under Gyalzen Kazi had been sending up further loads. 
We now divided our party into two : MaUory, Bullock, 
Raeburn and Morshead were to be responsible for taking 
aU the stores back to Kharta, and for this piu'pose we had 
arranged with Chheten Wangdi and the Kharta Jongpen 
for a number of Tibetan cooUes to help in the work of removal. 
The remainder of us, that is to say, WoUaston, Wheeler 
and myself, were to cross over a snow pass and retiu-n to 
Kharta via the Kama Valley. Wheeler was anxious to do 
this in order to complete his survey work, for up tUl now 
he had been unable to visit the Kama Valley. WoUaston 

14§ 



TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 147 

had already seen the lower parts of the Kama Valley, but 
was very anxious to see the upper end, particularly after 
my descriptions of the scenery and the Alpine flowers that 
were to be met with there. 

On September 26 the two parties started off in different 
directions. Taking with us fifteen cooHes, all pretty heavily 
laden, we descended to the great Kharta Glacier, which 
it was necessary for us to cross. We were not at all certain 
as to the conditions we were likely to meet with on the 
other side of the pass. The climb from the Kharta Glacier 
to the Karpo La, 20,300 feet, was quite gentle, though the 
snow was very soft and powdery. On the North side of 
the pass we found the slopes to be a snow-covered glacier, 
but on the South side there was a very steep rocky descent 
which had to be faced. From the top of the pass we had a 
remarkably fine view into the Kama VaUey which lay below 
us. Makalu, Pethangtse and Everest stood up clear above 
the clouds which floated along the bottom of the Kama 
Valley. Across the gaps between these peaks we could see 
other snow ranges in Nepal. Here at the top of the pass 
we were luckily just sheltered from the North-west and 
the gale, but on either side of us snow was being blown off 
the mountains in long white streamers. Our descent was 
down a very steep rocky rib. We began by roping ourselves 
together, but the coohes were all of them heavily laden 
and were, moreover, very clumsy on the rope, sending down 
so many loose stones that I found my position as foremost 
man quite untenable owing to the amount of debris and 
rocks which were dislodged above me. We therefore unroped, 
and WoUaston lowered the coolies one by one over the 
steepest part — a somewhat long proceeding — after which 
they were able independently to make their way down to 
the glacier below without mishap. We now put on the rope 
again, and so crossed the easy glacier which led down to 
the moraine on which I had been two months before. 
Wheeler branched off here and took up a position on one 
of the ridges. Here he found the gale very troublesome. 



148 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

his theodolite being nearly blown over several times. He 
managed, however, to take a number of readings and to 
get a good many photographs — sufficient to map the whole 
of the upper part of the Kama Valley. All that day the 
gale continued above 20,000 feet. Below this the valley 
was filled with clouds, over which at first we had magnificent 
views. As soon as we descended into the valley, we 
gradually became enveloped in the autumn mists, which 
lasted aU the remainder of the way to Pethang Ringmo. 
This was the place where I had met the yak herds two 
months before when they were pasturing their yaks on the 
grassy uplands. They had left the place, and we were 
therefore no longer able to draw on them for butter and 
milk. I had, however, arranged for Wheeler's fat cook 
to be sent up from Kharta to this place to meet us and to 
bring with him some fresh meat and vegetables. These 
we found on arrival, the fat cook having only arrived an 
hour before. We all of us slept that night much better than 
we had been doing at the higher camps, and though even 
down here we had 14° of frost, I was dehghted to find that 
my boots were not frozen as hard as nails, as they had been 
all the last week. 

From this camp I determined to attempt an expedition 
which I had long desired to make. My ambition was to 
reach the ridge between Makalu and Everest, and from 
it to have a look right down into Nepal. Mallory and 
Bullock did not much encourage me in my project, and 
doubted whether it could be accomphshed within the short 
time which was now available. I decided, nevertheless, 
to make the attempt. On the night of the 26th all our 
servants overslept themselves, and I had some difficulty 
in waking them next morning. We succeeded, however, 
after a hurried breakfast in making a start at 5.45 a.m., 
just as the first sunlight was touching the highest peak 
of Mount Everest. It was a most perfect autumn morning, 
without a cloud in the sky and with the ground underfoot 
white with hoar-frost. After going a mile up the valley. 



TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 149 

we had to cross the Kangshung Glacier — here about a 
mile wide and consistmg of a great mass of ice hummocks, 
often 100 feet or more in height, mostly covered with 
boulders, with the ice showing every now and then below 
us in curious caverns and lakes. It took us an hour to cross 
this glacier, as the walking was very tiring up and down 
hiU over loose stones aU the time ; luckily, however, many 
of the stones were frozen to the ice, which made the crossing 
easier than it might have been later in the day. We then 
cUmbed on to a spur, over 19,000 feet, which jutted out 
into the valley. From this we had marvellous views right 
away to Kanchenjunga in the East. On the opposite side 
Mount Everest stood out with every detail showing clearly 
in the autumn sunshine. Above us towered the perpendicular 
cUffs of Chomolonzo, opening out into a most astonishing 
series of peaks, the existence of which we had never suspected 
when looking at the mountain from the vaUey below. For 
once in a way the air was drier and the valleys below were 
not fiUed with cloud, so there was a prospect of our having 
clear views all day. Wheeler had come a short way along 
the ridge until he got a good view-point, when he stopped 
to set up his theodoHte and camera for a station, after which 
he came along no further. I followed the crest of the ridge 
as far as I could, finding it at times very difficult and rocky 
and having to make many detours to get along. A descent 
of about 500 feet was followed by a climb of another 1,000 feet, 
at the end of which we found ourselves exactly opposite 
to the great amphitheatre of granite formed by Chomolonzo 
and Makalu and facing Westwards. So steep were these 
great white granite cHfEs that no snow lodged on them. 
Above them were other clifEs of ice with rather gentler slopes ; 
at their feet was a great glacier that filled up the whole of 
this basin and then swept down tiU it almost joined the 
Kangshung Glacier. I had taken with me as usual Ang Tenze 
and Njdma Tendu, the two cooUes who always accompanied 
me, each of them carrying a camera. We now came to a 
glacier which it was necessary to cross, and therefore roped 



150 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

up once more. The snow by this time had become rather 
soft, and we were constantly breaking through the crust. 
The glare and heat of the sun on this glacier were very 
intense, and both Nyima and I were feeling very Ump from 
the heat. Ang Tenze was extraordhiarily active and did 
not seem to mind heat or height — a quite exceptionally 
gifted mountaineer. Having successfully crossed the glacier, 
we left the soft snow and found our way over some easy 
rocks and eventually reached the top of the ridge for which 
we were making, at a height of about 21,500 feet, and some 
500 feet above the snow-covered pass to the East of us. 
From the top of the ridge we had a most glorious view 
looking across range upon range of snowy mountains in 
Nepal. Immediately below us was a large snow " neve," 
towards which glaciers descended from a number of snow- 
covered peaks. From this neve a great glacier swept round 
towards the Southern side of Makalu, apparently descending 
into a vaUey that ran parallel to the Kama VaUey and on 
the South side of Makalu. Chamlang and other snow peaks 
to the South showed up very clearly, covered with snow and 
ice to very much lower elevations than any mountain on 
the North side of the Himalayas, On either side of us towered 
up Makalu and Everest, but seen from this point the huge 
chffs of Chomolonzo presented by far the most astounding 
sight. From here I could see a few thousand feet of the 
Southern slopes of Mount Everest wliich we had been unable 
to see from any other point before. From the angle at which 
I saw them these appeared very steep, and even if it were 
possible and permissible to go into Nepal, it seems improbable 
that a practicable route lies up that face of the mountain. 
I spent a couple of hours up here taking photographs, enjoying 
the views, and eating my lunch in comfort, for the sun was 
hot and for once in a way there was no wind. To the South- 
west of us, across the neve, there appeared to be another 
easy pass which seemed to lead round to the South of Moimt 
Everest, and Ang Tenze, who came from the Khombu VaUey, 
said that he thought that he recognised some of the moimtain 




Chomolonzo. 
from the alp below the Langnia La, Kama Valley. 



TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 151 

tops that he saw over this, and that if we crossed this pass, 
we should eventually descend into the Khombu VaUey. 
He also told me that there were stories that once upon a 
time there was a pass from the Khombu VaUey into the 
Kama Valley, and that this was probably the pass in question, 
but that it had been disused for a great number of years. 
To support his theory we found on the way down a kind of 
shelter built of stones and some pieces of juniper hidden 
under a big rock. This would have been too high up for 
any yak herds to camp, as it was above the grazing pastures, 
and seemed to prove that the spot might have been used as 
a halting-place for smugglers or people fleeing from the law 
before they crossed these passes. It had taken us six and a 
half hours from camp to get up to the top of this pass ; and 
we had had no halts on the way beyond what were necessary 
to take photographs. The downward journey took us four 
hoiurs. We tried another way by the side of the Makalu 
Glacier, desiring thereby to avoid the tiresome and rather 
difficult bit along the top of the ridge. This short cut proved, 
however, to be stiU more trying and wearisome. From the 
clifEs above there had been great rock falls down to the edge 
of the glacier, and for a couple of miles we had to jump from 
boulder to boulder and to clamber either up or down the 
whole time. There was still the Kangshung Glacier to cross, 
with more up and down hill work, the stones being much 
looser and more inclined to slip under foot than they were 
in the morning. Eventually we reached camp, just before 
dark, and feeling very tired. A cup of tea, however, with 
a little brandy in it, completely removed all fatigue. 
Wollaston had been able dicing the day to get some beautiful 
photographs of the snow-powdered cliffs of Chomolonzo, 
and also some interesting ones of the Kangshung Glacier. 
Besides these he had been able to collect a number of seeds. 
It is astonishing how quickly at these heights seeds ripen, 
and how short a time it is after flowering that they are fit 
for picking. 

We had been very lucky in getting such a perfect day 



152 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

in the Kama VaUey, for fine days there were very few. 
After our one perfect day the weather changed again, and 
for the next three days we descended the Kama Valley 
in sleet and snow. The first morning oiar march was only 
to our old camp at Tangsham on a glacial terrace 1,000 
feet above the vaUey. At first Everest was clear and aU 
the mountains to the West, but heavy clouds came rolling 
up from the South-east and soon enveloped everything. 
On the way I managed to collect for WoUaston a number of 
the seeds of that lovely blue primula which I had found in 
flower here in August. I shot, too, a common snipe, which 
I was very surprised to meet at these altitudes. I flushed 
him beside a small spring close to the camp. During the 
afternoon it snowed and sleeted, and Wheeler came in very 
tired in the evening after having spent the whole of the day 
on a prominent peak, from which he had been unable to get 
a single photograph or to take any bearings. In spite of the 
snow that evening we had a cheery bonfire of juniper, willow 
and rhododendron. The next morning, though we were 
down at 15,000 feet, there were a couple of inches of fresh 
snow on the ground. The weather at first was very misty, 
and we had no views at all. We soon, however, descended 
below the snow, and the autumnal colours in the vaUey 
began to show. On the opposite side of it below the great 
black chffs, the bushes were all shades of brown and gold. 
In the forests the rose bushes had turned a briUiant red, 
and the mountain ash showed every shade of scarlet and 
crimson, contrasting well with the shiny dark green leaves 
of the rhododendron. The golden colours of the birch and 
the dark junipers also made a beautiful combination of colour. 
Rain set in again steadily, and as snow was falling on 
the " field of marigolds" where we had intended to camp, 
we pitched our tents in the midst of a huge rock-faU — 1,000 
feet lower down. Our coolies did not pitch any tents for 
themselves, but preferred to scatter in twos and threes 
and to camp under the overhanging rocks which they found 
apparently warmer and more comfortable than the tents. 



TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 153 

There had been a wonderful growth of vegetation among 
these huge boulders, many of them 40 feet to 50 feet in 
height, which had come down from the cliffs above. WoUaston 
and I spent most of the afternoon pottering round and 
collecting seeds of plants of different kinds. The next 
morning we had trouble in getting hold of the coolies ; they 
were scattered among the rocks, and in spite of shouts, 
refused to budge until I went round with a big stick and 
poked them out of their holes. I crossed the Shao La in 
thick mist, though WoUaston and Wheeler, who came along 
an hour behind, had some beautiful glimpses of Makalu 
in the clouds and were able to get some photographs. After 
crossing the pass, we descended past several beautiful lakes 
and arrived in fine weather at Kharta in the afternoon. 
The autumn tints on the way down were again very beautiful, 
and most of the crops had already been gathered in, MaUory 
and BuUock had, we found, left Kharta, being in a great 
hiirry to get back to civilisation again. 

It was September 30 when we reached Kharta. We had 
now finished our reconnaissance. We had investigated 
all the valleys to the West, North-west, North, North-east 
and East of the mountain, and had eventually found that 
there was only one possible route of approach to the summit. 
The bad weather and the furious North-westerly gales had 
prevented our attaining any great height this year. The 
rainy season had begun some three weeks later than usual. 
The rains, they told us, had been much heavier than in 
most years in Tibet, and the wet season had lasted until 
very nearly the end of September, after which time a period 
of gales set in which made climbing at heights above 23,000 
feet a physical impossibility. Undoubtedly the best time 
to try and climb the mountain would be before the monsoon 
breaks in May or early June. It might be possible, if the 
monsoon happened to end by the beginning of September, 
to tackle the mountain early in September, but after the 
middle of that month the chances of doing any good grow 
steadily weaker and the cold increases with great rapidity. 



154 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

Whether it wiU be possible in any conditions to reach the 
sumroit I am very doubtful. We, however, had never 
intended to make a sustained effort to reach the top in 
1921. The reconnaissance of the mountain and its approaches 
afforded us indeed no time to make such an effort, and we 
felt bound to investigate every vaUey that led up to it. 
The Everest Committee had already before we left for India 
in 1921 decided to send out a second Expedition in the 
following year, for the express purpose of climbing Mount 
Everest, and for this purpose had already then promised 
the leadership to Brig. -General C. G. Bruce, whose unrivalled 
knowledge of cUmbtng and climatic conditions in the 
Himalayas specially fitted him for the work. Whether 
the task is capable of accomphshment I will not attempt 
to say, though I should think the chances are on the whole 
against success. If Mount Everest were 6,000, or even 
5,000 feet lower, I think there can be no doubt that it could 
be climbed. There are no physical difficulties in the shape 
of the mountain which prevent it being chmbed — ^the 
difficulties are aU connected with its altitude. If the snow 
is soft and powdery, and the conditions are such as we met 
with so often ; or if, again, there is difficult rock climbing 
in the last 2,000 or 3,000 feet of the climb, I do not think 
the summit will be reached. I cannot say what the effect 
will be if oxygen is taken to aid the human effort. I only 
know that cylinders of oxygen are very uncomfortable and 
heavy to carry, and that to wear a mask over the mouth 
and to cKmb so equipped would not seem to be very feasible 
or pleasant. Living at great heights, and trjdng to sleep 
at great heights, lowers the vitahty enormously. Larger 
tents than those with which we were suppUed might well 
be taken in order to prevent the depressing headaches that 
foUow from sleeping in a confined and airless space. Among 
minor discomforts which count for much may be mentioned 
the difficulty of preparing good warm food, and for this 
purpose a coolie should be trained in cooking and in the use 
of the " Primus " and spirit stoves. This cooKe should be 



TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 155 

a man accustomed to great heights, and he should accompany 
the party up to the highest camps in order to avoid the 
difficulties we had in connection with the preparation of 
our food and then having to Hve on such makeshifts as 
sardines and biscuits. I never lost my appetite at heights 
over 20,000 feet — I was always able to eat well, though not 
everything appealed to the palate. Sweet things were 
especially wanted. That it is possible to acclimatise the 
system to live at heights is true, but only to a certain extent — 
up to about 18,000 feet we could acclimatise ourselves very 
comfortably, and I know in my own case that after six months' 
living in Tibet, I was able to do far more than when I first 
came into the country, but at greater heights I think a 
prolonged stay permanently lowers the vitality. Sleeplessness 
is another great enemy at heights, and most of the party 
I found slept very poorly at the highest camp. MaUory, 
I thmk, was the only exception. It ought to be possible to 
pick out a few coolies capable of carrying loads able to go 
as far as any European can get. Some of them seem to 
feel the height much less than others, and I beheve that an 
unladen native would be able to go much higher if he had 
the knowledge of ice and snow that Alpine climbers have, 
and would not improbably reach a greater height than 
any European. Twenty-nine thousand feet is, however, a 
tremendous height for anyone to attain, and I own that I 
am not at all sanguine that the summit will be reached, 
though I have no doubt that this year will see the Duke of 
the Abruzzi's record of 24,600 broken, and I shall not 
be at aU surprised to see a height of 25,000 or 26,000 feet 
arrived at. 



CHAPTER X 

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 

Autumn had already come to Kharta. The willows 
and the poplars under which we were camped were fast 
shedding their leaves, which rustled on the ground, or blew 
into our tents, a warning that winter was not far off. Even 
here there were one or two degrees of frost every night. The 
days, however, were stUl warm and sunny. The next five 
days were fully occupied Avith strenuous work. Wheeler 
and I took alternate mornings and afternoons in the dark 
room. We had each taken a large number of photographs 
during the past month. These had to be developed before 
we started on our return journey to Darjeeling, and this 
would be our last opportunity. An account of our last 
month's doings and our final reconnaissance had to be written 
out for The Times, and this, together with many other letters, 
had to be sent off to Phari as soon as possible. Our stores, 
tents, Alpine equipment, had all to be collected and sorted 
out. Lists had to be made of all of them, and most of them 
had to be re-packed. The coohes were perpetually worrjring 
us for money and advances of pay in order that they might 
be able to buy Tibetan clothing, or have money which they 
could spend on drink at Kharta, where it was apparently 
very cheap. Our cook and most of the coohes used constantly 
to return to camp in the evening bHnd drunk, and I had to 
see that the cook was never allowed near the kitchen under 
these conditions. On such an occasion my servant. Poo, 
would have to do the cooking in his place. The chang, or 
barley beer, that they got must have been a much stronger 
brew than what was given to us, as what we had did not 

156 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 157 

appear intoxicating at all, but the interpreters told us that 
coohe beer was double strength. 

The Jongpen was rather sad as the moment of our 
departure drew near. We invited him to lunch one day, 
and he seemed to appreciate the beauties of Scotch whisky, 
which he said was very much better than his own chang. 
We had to pay him a return visit the following day, when 
he gave us a great spread. Knowing that we were anxious 
to collect such curios as were available, he produced all 
kinds of things for our inspection. I bought from him a 
curious old Tibetan musket, elaborately decorated with 
sUver, and fitted with a pair of antelope horns on which to 
rest it when firing. Some interesting copper and sUver 
teapots we were also able to get from him, and I remember 
his showing Wollaston many pieces of finely embroidered 
Chinese silk. Both Hopaphema and the Jongpen had a 
very good idea of the value of money, and were not at all 
afraid of asking a stiff price for any of the curios which 
they produced. We managed, however, to pick up some 
interesting Chinese snuff bottles of carved agate, some with 
pictures painted inside. China cups of the Chienlung and 
Kanghe periods we were also able to get ; there were, however, 
many things in the monasteries which we rather coveted, 
but which the Lamas would not sell. Their tables were very 
ornamentally carved with dragons and weird designs, all 
painted over in briUiant colours. The Jongpen had one 
such table, but unfortunately I found out that he had only 
borrowed it from the nearest monastery for the purpose of 
entertaining us, and therefore he could not sell it. We left 
behind us a good many stores which it was not worth whUe 
to bring along. Among them was a lot of acid hypo-sulphite 
of soda, which the Jongpen at once seized upon, and which 
he said he intended to make use of in washing his clothes, 
knowing that soda was used occasionally for this purpose. The 
Jongpen, of whom we had taken many photographs, and 
who had seen the results, was anxious to buy one of our 
cameras, and to develop and print everything himself. He 



158 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

imagined tlie whole process was very easy, and was extremely 
anxious to get hold of one of the Expedition's cameras, but 
we had to disappoint him in this. Nothing small would 
content him — he wanted the biggest of the lot, and was quite 
wiUing to exchange a sword or any other weapon for a camera. 
We, however, left behind with him three pairs of skis, which 
we had brought out with us, but which had never been 
unpacked. These skis had throughout our journeys been 
looked upon by the Tibetans with the greatest interest. 
They had heard about flying machines, and they thought 
that these were the framework of a flying machine which 
we had brought with us, and on which we intended to 
fly to the top of the mountains. Wherever we arrived 
there was always a great crowd assembled round these skis, 
discussing the various methods by which they could be put 
together and describmg how the white man would then fly. 
I left them with the Jongpen and told him that they were 
very good exercise for him in the winter time, when the snow 
was deep, and that if he wanted to reduce his weight, which 
was aheady considerable, there could be no better method 
than by making use of them in the snow. 

At last, on October 5, we managed to leave Kharta. 
There were no pack animals available ; we had therefore 
to make use of coolies for our transport for the first march ; 
it took 140 of them to carry aU our loads. For some time 
the scene of confusion was very amusing. The Jongpen 
himself came down, and it was only owing to his help that 
by mid-day we got all the loads sorted out and put on the 
backs of the coolies. Before he was able to do this he had 
to have recourse to the system of drawing lots by putting 
garters on each load, a system which I have aheady described 
in a previous chapter. Before we left, the Jongpen and 
Hopaphema brought us presents of sheep and vegetables, 
and they and aU the people of the vaUey seemed genuinely 
sorry that we were departing. Throughout oiir long stay 
at Kharta they had been most helpful and had done every- 
thing they could for our comfort. They were both of them 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 159 

very human, with a dehghtful sense of humour, and we 
quickly became great friends. It was with much regret that 
we turned our backs on KLharta. 

We started off without a cloud in the sky, but with a 
strong South wind blowing. High up on the mountains we 
could see the snow stiU being blown off in white clouds. Our 
route lay up the valley of the Bhong-chu for about 10 miles 
until the river suddenly turned to the East to go through a 
deep and impassable gorge. We had then to foUow the 
valley of the Zachar-chu for 4 mUes to Lumeh, where we 
camped beside the great poplar trees. The bridge by which 
we had crossed the Zachar-chu in July no longer existed. 
It had been washed away in August^ but now that the snows 
were no longer melting higher up, and the rainy season was 
over, the river was very much lower, and it was possible to 
ford it. The people at Lumeh were very pleased to see us 
again; we found tents pitched and food prepared for our 
reception. From here there were two routes open to us. 
We could either, by crossing two passes, drop down to Tsogo 
in the valley of the Bhong-chu, and after fording the river 
there, follow our previous route (of the outward journey) to 
Tingri, or we could cross a small pass just above Lumeh, 
meeting the Bhong-chu again immediately above the gorge, 
where there was a bridge across it. We chose the latter 
route, as it was probably a couple of days shorter and would 
take us through new country. On leaving Lumeh, for the 
first time for several days we had a cloudy morning, which 
was unfortunate, as from the top of the Quiok (Cuckoo Pass) 
we had hoped for a fine view. Our transport to-day consisted 
of yaks and donkeys, which came along very well. There 
was a steep climb of 2,000 feet to the top of the pass, 15,000 
feet, where we just managed to get a glimpse of Makalu in 
the clouds, but Everest was hidden. We thought that this 
would be our last chance of a view of the Everest and Makalu 
group, but it turned out not to be so. By going over this pass 
we had avoided the curious and impassable gorge by which 
the Bhong-chu cuts through a high range of mountains. 



160 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

It was only a little over 6 miles to the famous rope bridge 
at Gadompa. I could not help laughing when I first saw 
the bridge. It was such a comical, ramshackle-looking 
affair, and everything about it seemed torn and ragged and 
uneven. Two crooked wooden posts set up in piles of stones 
supported the ropes of raw hide which spanned the river. 
Dtiring the rainy season one of these posts and aU the ropes 
had been buried deep under the water, but now that the 
river had dropped over 10 feet, the posts were out of the 
water. Between these two wooden posts were three raw 
hide ropes, very frail and much frayed, and looking as though 
they might break at any moment. On these ropes was laid 
a semi-circular piece of wood, Uke the framework of a saddle, 
to which were attached two leather thongs. The person 
or bale of goods that had to be puUed across was tied by 
these two thongs to the framework, and this was allowed to 
sHde rapidly with its load down to the point at which the 
" bridge " sagged most — somewhere about the middle of 
the river — which here rushed along in a formidable rapid. 
If the Tibetans on the far side failed to pull up the passenger 
or load and he or it was left for a minute, either would cer- 
tainly get the fuU benefit of one of the ice-cold waves of the 
rapids and get thoroughly soaked before reaching the far 
side. The Tibetans had great fun with our cooHes in transit, 
and very few of them were allowed to get over dry. The 
villages on either side are exempt from the duty of producing 
transport, and have instead to make themselves responsible 
for worldng the bridge. On one side the operators were 
all women and on the other aU men. It took an average of 
five minutes to get each load or person across, and we spent 
twelve hours before we got aU our loads over. For part of 
the time I superintended while Wheeler went to get some 
dinner, and after dinner, owing to there being a certain 
amount of moonHght, Wheeler carried on until the last 
load was brought over at midnight. It was a very chilly 
proceeding, as the wind blew very cold, with a suspicion 
of snow every now and then. It was a weird experience to 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 161 

see the loads of baggage suddenly appearing out of the 
darkness and then being unloaded and transferred to the 
yaks, who apparently were able to find their way about in 
the dark. We got everything over in safety without losiog 
anything except a few eggs, which I saw drop out during 
the passage across, and I felt very much reheved that we 
had had no accident. 

That night we camped in a pleasant wiUow grove at the 
village of Kharkhung. In the morning we awoke to find 
fresh snow on the ground, but this speedily disappeared 
when the sun came out. Our new transport consisted of 
donkeys and some very wild yaks, which rapidly got rid 
of their loads. The march was only a short one of about 
12 miles up the valley of the Bhong-chu. The valley was 
uninteresting and stony, with practically no undergrowth, 
and we eventually camped in a windy spot near the village 
of Lashar, nearly opposite to the sandy camp at ShUing 
where we had halted on our outward journey after crossing 
the quicksands. The night proved much colder here, with 
18° of frost, but the wind luckily died down and the next 
morning was beautiful. We continued up the sandy vaUey 
of the Bhong-chu, which is here several miles wide, until 
we came to its junction with the Yaru, where we regained 
the route which we had followed on the outward journey. 
Just before leaving the main valley we found, on looking 
behind us, that we were in full sight of Mount Everest and 
its great South-eastern ridge, and also of the Lhakpa La 
where we had camped. This was our final view of Mount 
Everest, and knowing the geography of these peaks as we 
now did, this view gave us an added interest in them. We 
had cHmbed slowly and had not reahsed the great height 
which we had reached or the conspicuous position of our 
camp on the Lhakpa La which we now saw sharply defined 
against the horizon from a distance of 50 mUes. 

We rode up the gorge of the Yaru, and at the village of 
Rongme we met the Phari Jongpen's brother. He was 
busy collecting the harvest rents, which are a fixed percentage 

M.E. M 



162 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

of the crops. I gave him some of the photographs that I 
had taken of him and his house on the way up and very soon 
after a big crowd collected around. The Tibetans are very 
quick at recognising persons in a photograph, and they at 
once picked out all the people by name in a group. I then rode 
on past his house to the vUlage of Shatog, where we camped. 
On the way I shot a couple of snipe and also saw a number 
of teal, wild geese and kulan (grey crane), but they were 
very wild and I could not get near enough for a shot. Heron 
joined us here. He had been exploring some of the vaUeys 
to the North, but had found nothing interesting or remark- 
able, geologically, and he accompanied us back as far as 
Khamba Dzong. We were anxious to push on as fast as 
possible, and determined to do a double march from here 
to Tinki Dzong, which our transport drivers said they could 
do quite easily. We started on a beautiful day after a sharp 
frost at night, causing many of the ponds to be frozen over. 
We crossed the broad swampy plain to Chushar. Wheeler, 
going on ahead at first, had a shot at some geese, but did not 
succeed in getting anything. We crossed the Yaru River 
by a very deep ford, and then kept along the North side of 
it, past numerous ponds on which were swimming many 
bar-headed geese ; these were, however, very wily and would 
not allow us to approach within shot. We now had a steep 
3,000-foot climb to the Tinki Pass. On the way up I came 
across some partridges ; they were terrible runners, but 
after a good chase I managed to collect two. They turned 
out to be the ordinary Tibetan partridge {Perdrix hodgsonice). 
I then rode on down to Tinki, to which place I had sent on 
Chheten Wangdi in order to make arrangements for our 
reception and to have transport ready for us on the following 
day. The two Jongpens rode out to meet us ; the elder 
of the two had been at Tinki when we passed tlu-ough on 
the way out, but the other one I had not seen before as he 
had been away. I had very pleasant recollections of our 
reception there before, and was dehghted to see the elder 
Jongpen, who was a most pleasant and agreeable gentleman. 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 163 

They presented us with a couple of hundred eggs, rice and 
some grain for the ponies, and had tents already pitched for 
us under the walls of the fort. Here the Jongpens came 
and sat talking with us for a long time. Our transport 
showed no signs of turning up, so we were very glad to make 
our dinner off the rice and eggs that had been given us. 
The bulk of the transport did not arrive till midnight. They 
had made every effort to stop at Chushar, and it was with 
great difficulty that Gyalzen Kazi had induced them to go 
on. The animal which was carrying Wheeler's kit died on 
the way, and his bedding did not arrive till noon the following 
day, another animal having been sent to bring it in. I had 
had my maximum and minimum thermometers exposed as 
usual under the fly of my tent, but during the night some 
wretch came and stole them. What good they could have 
been to him I cannot imagine, but it was very annoying 
and I hope he will drink the mercury. The weather had 
now changed again for the worse : aU day there were heavy- 
snow showers with snow falling on the mountains around 
and preventing any views. The march was only a short 
one to Lingga. The wild birds in the lake beside the 
fort were as tame as ever, the Brahminy ducks (ruddy 
sheldrake) almost waddling into our tents and not paying 
the slightest attention to us. On the water were swimming 
about thousands of duck, bar-headed geese and teal which 
the Jongpen's little dog used to have great fun in chasing. 
We were not able to follow our former route from Tinki to 
Lingga as the country had altered considerably. Most of 
the plain was now a broad lake several miles long, and we 
had to foUow the North side of the water along the foot of 
the hills. On these big lakes were many duck, but they 
were very wild. I managed on the way, however, to shoot 
two bar-headed geese, a couple of Gargany teal and a pochard, 
which proved a very welcome addition to our bill of fare. 
One shot was a most extraordinary one. I was stalking some 
geese which were getting very restless and starting to fly 
away, when just in front of me got up two teal close together. 



164 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

I fired at the teal and both feU to my shot, and at the same 
time, to my great surprise, a goose, which was in the direct 
line of fire, and about 40 yards away, also fell. 

We found the people at Lingga busy thrashing. The 
thrashing time in Tibet is a favourite one for drinldng, and 
often the whole village after a day's harvest will be com- 
pletely incapacitated as the result of too great an indulgence 
in chang. Their thrashing floors consist of an area of about 
half an acre of hard beaten earth on which the barley is 
spread to a depth of 6 to 8 inches. Fifty or sixty yaks are 
then driven into this enclostire, followed by thirty people 
or more, beating drums, ratthng kerosene oil tins, ringing 
beUs and shouting and yelling in order to frighten the yaks, 
who, tail in air, are driven backwards and forwards over 
the barley. This they continue doing until every one is 
tired and hoarse, when the whole of the workers, both male 
and female, adjourn for a long drink of beer, after which 
the same process is repeated. 

On October 11 we arrived at Khamba Dzong. We were 
having sharp frosts now every night, and the mountains, 
both to the North and South of us, were covered low down 
with a thick white coating of snow. It was not, however, 
unpleasantly cold, and the cloud effects were very beautiful. 
On the way I shot two goa — Tibetan gazelle — ^with good 
heads, and horns over 14 inches long. We had to halt here 
in order to rest our coolies. All day to the South there was 
a furious storm raging along the Himalayas, and when it 
cleared up in the evening there had evidently been a heavy 
snowfall. In the course of the afternoon we put up over 
Dr. KeUas's grave the stone which the Jongpen had had 
engraved for us during our absence. On it were inscribed 
in Enghsh and Tibetan characters his initials and the date 
of his death, and this marks his last resting-place. 

Raeburn, Wheeler and Heron now left us, as they wanted 
to return to Darjeehng by the short way over the Serpo La 
and down the Teesta Valley. This route is only possible 
for small parties ; with all our transport we were unable 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 165 

to return that way as the villages on the way and in 
the Teesta Valley are small and can supply but very few 
animals or cooHes. Wollaston and I had therefore to return 
to Phari and then to follow the main trade route, along 
which it is always possible to pick up any amount of hired 
transport. We left Khamba Dzong on October 13 in 20° of 
frost. Kanchenjunga and the Everest group were just 
visible, but ominous clouds were rapidly coming up. Our march 
was the same as on the outward journey to Tatsang (Falcon's 
Nest) — a distance of about 21 miles. We rode through the 
fine limestone gorge behind the fort, shooting on the way 
several Tibetan partridge {Perdrix hodgsonice). On reaching 
the top of the pass, I climbed another thousand feet on to 
the ridge to the South of the pass, where I had a wonderful 
panorama of snowy peaks, both to the South and to the 
North. Snow storms appeared to be raging on either side 
and the wind was extremely cold. I came across a fine flock 
of burhel {Ovis nahura), and had an easy shot at a fine ram, 
but missed him hopelessly, and they never gave me another 
chance. A httle further on I missed a gazelle. On the 
plain below were grazing numerous kiang {Equus hemionus), 
their reddish-chestnut coats being well shown off by their 
white bellies and legs. Their mane appears to be of a 
darker colour, which is continued as a narrow stripe down 
the back. On the same plain I cculd see also a large flock 
of nyan {Ovis hodgsoni), aU fair-sized rams. I had a long 
chase after the latter, but they never allowed me to approach 
close to them. Snow began to fall now and a regular 
bhzzard set in, the fine powdery snow being blown along 
the ground into our faces. While riding along in this storm, I 
saw two fine nyan which I stalked. My 2 "75 rifle was rather 
small for such a large animal, and though the larger of the 
two was badly hit by the first shot, he went off as though 
he were untouched and gave me a long chase after him. 
It was only possible to get a glimpse of him every now and 
then in the blizzard, and whenever I lay down to try and 
get a shot, the fine powdery snow blown along the surface 



166 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

of the ground nearly blinded me, so that it took five more 
buUets before he finally expired. He was a magnificent 
old beast with a grand head and horns, well over 40 inches 
in length and of great thickness. The weight of the body 
was enormous. I had only Ang Tenze with me. With much 
difiiculty we cut off the nyan's head and then tried to lift 
the carcass, which must have weighed well over 200 lb., 
on to one of the ponies. With the greatest trouble we 
eventually managed to get the carcass on to the pony's back, 
but the pony seemed gradually to subside on to the ground 
under the weight and was quite unable to move. While 
we were doing this, my pony took it into his head to run 
away, and though we made every attempt to catch him, 
he completely defeated us, and was last seen galloping away 
towards his home. I had therefore an 8 mile trudge through 
the snow to get back to camp, not arriving there till weU 
after dark. Five of the cooUes went back after dark to get 
the meat. They cut off as much as they could carry, and 
the remainder had to be left for the nuns, who sent out their 
servants to bring it in. I was cheered up, however, by 
getting an English mail and many letters. Among these 
was one from Sir Charles Bell from Lhasa, who wrote to 
ask the Expedition not to do any more shooting in Tibet, 
as the Tibetans did not approve of it ; for the remainder of 
the time, therefore, the guns had to be put away. 

During the night there were 32° of frost, and everything 
inside our tents was frozen solid in the morning ; but the 
wind luckily died down, and the next day was a most beautiful 
one. We knew that there was a long march before us, so 
our transport was off by eight o'clock. At Tatsang we 
were already 16,000 feet, and we gradually climbed higher, 
spending most of the day between 17,000 and 18,000 feet. 
For several miles we rode across a snow-covered plain over 
which the tops of Pawhunri, Chomiomo, and Kanchenjhow 
appeared to the South. As we rose higher, the snow gradually 
deepened to 6 inches and made the going very heavy. We 
had to cross three spurs of Pawhunri by passes of over 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 167 

17,500 feet. Here the snow had been blown by the wind into 
drifts over 2 feet deep. We had arranged to camp at a place 
called Lunghi, but on our arrival there found that the 
nomads, who ordinarily spent the summer there, had already 
left and were encamped some 4 miles further down the vaUey. 
In a side valley I found some of their tents where I was able 
to warm myself and get some hot milk before moving on 
down the valley, where we were told that preparations had 
been made to receive us. There was luckily a bright moon 
and we rode on down to the spot, where we found some 
Tibetan tents which had been pitched for us ; their owners 
had, moreover, had the forethought to have great braziers 
of cow dung burning in these tents. The smell was not 
agreeable, but we sat and warmed ourselves, waiting for 
our transport, which did not arrive until eleven o'clock that 
night. It was a bitterly cold wait, as the wind got up and 
blew down the valley with 25° of frost behind it. We were 
very glad to see our transport and coolies when they arrived ; 
they had really come along very well, as a march of 23 miles 
in soft snow and at a great height all the time is no light 
feat. 

Breakfast the next morning was very comfortless, as 
the wind was still blowing with 28° of frost, and everything 
— boots and foodstuffs of all kinds — ^was frozen inside our 
tents. We looked forward with no little pleasure to finding 
ourselves inside once more and sitting in front of a fire out 
of the everlasting wind which makes Tibet so trying. The 
march was a fairly easy one of about 20 miles over gentle 
undulating country until we reached the West side of the 
Tang La ; there was, however, a bitterly cold strong South 
wind which blew with great violence aU day and penetrated 
through everything. Many of our coolies had much difficulty 
in coming along, as they were suffering from snow blindness 
and their feet were also very tender from the cold and the 
deep snow of the last few days. Chomolhari was a glorious 
sight aU the way. We were gradually approaching it, and 
it seemed to rise directly from the plain in front of us. From 



168 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

its summit and from its ridges great streamers of snow were 
being blown off and the gale — apparently from the North- 
west — stiU. continued. Nearly every day since we left Kharta 
we saw along the higher peaks of the Himalayas the snow 
being blown off in great wisps, showing that a strong North- 
westerly current of air sets in at great heights after the 
monsoon is over. After reaching Darjeeling we noticed the 
same thing ; every day, from Kanchenjunga and Kabru, 
could be seen the same great wisps of wind-blown snow. 
That night at Phari we were once more in a bungalow and 
out of the wind, and able to spend a very comfortable and 
pleasant evening reading our letters and papers in front of 
a fire which, though stiU mostly yak dung, was in a fireplace. 
October 16 we spent resting at Phari. Our cooHes were 
much exhausted by the three days' march from Khamba 
Dzong, in which we had covered 65 miles, most of the time 
at considerable heights and in deep snow. We had returned 
by the short way, which the people of Phari had told us in 
the spring was impassable, and over which they would not 
go, sending us instead around by the long way to Dochen, 
which took us six days instead of three. 

Phari is a place unfortunately too near civilisation. The 
Tibetans there have lost their good manners, such as we 
had been accustomed to meet in the more distant and out- 
of-the-way parts of the country. Much trade passes through 
the town, and the people there are too well off. They had 
an idea that the Expedition was a kind of mUch cow out of 
which money could be extracted to their hearts' content. 
Of this view we had to disabuse them, and in consequence 
found them all very tiresome. The transport turned up 
the following morning, but they refused to load up unless they 
were paid in full beforehand and at a most exorbitant rate. 
This I refused to do, telephoning at the same time to 
the trade agent at Yatung. I sent for the Jongpen, and 
both Jongpens turned up. I rather imagine that they were 
at the bottom of this trouble, for one of them owed the 
Expedition some money ; he had also, when forwarding on 



THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 169 

stores to us, seized the opportunity to charge five times the 
ordinary rate, on the pretext that he had supplied some of 
his own mules. After long arguments I eventually induced 
them to accept part of the payment, the remainder to be 
paid at Yatung, whereupon the Jongpens gave orders for 
the animalfci to be loaded. It was not, however, until the 
afternoon that we were able to leave Phari and to start on 
our downward march to Yatung. 



CHAPTER XI 
BACK TO CIVILISATION 

When we turned our backs on Phari and started to 
march down the Chumbi VaUey, we had left the real Tibet 
behind us. I could not somehow look upon the Chumbi 
Valley as being a part of Tibet. Its characteristics, its 
houses, its people, its vegetation, are aU so different from 
the greater part of Tibet. There are not the same cold 
winds that freeze the very marrow, nor are there the 
wide plains and the undulating hills with their extensive 
views. 

In spite of aU discomforts, there is a very great charm 
and fascination about travelling in Tibet. Is it partly 
because it is an unknown country, and the unknown is always 
fascinating, or is it rather because of the innate beauty of 
the country itself, with its landscapes so free from aU restraint 
and a horizon often 150 to 200 miles distant ? Never 
anywhere have I seen a country so fuU of colour as is Tibet. 
There is not enough vegetation to hide the rocks and the 
stones. The foregroimd as weU as the distant view is 
wonderfully full of colour and variety. Contrasts are one 
of the charms of Ufe, and probably in this lies the secret 
of the charm and attractiveness of Tibet. It is essentially 
a country of contrasts. The climate, above aU, has contrasts 
of its own. The sun is biu'ningly hot, but in the shade the 
cold may be intense. To such a pitch can the extremes 
of heat and cold arrive, that a man may suffer from sunstroke 
and frost-bite at one and the same time. 

The Tibetans themselves are a strong, well-built and 
hardy race — Mongohan in type. The women usually put 
a mixture of grease and soot on their faces to protect them 

170 



BACK TO CIVILISATION 171 

against the glare of the fresh snow or the biting -winds, for 
even they, with their thick skins, do not seem to get used 
to the severity of the changes. How much more does the 
European suffer when he travels in Tibet and seems to need 
a fresh skin almost every day. The soot mixture does not 
add to the beauty of the women, though I came across some 
who were not bad looking. Many of the people are nomads, 
living in tents aU the year round and moving about from 
camp to camp pasturing their herds of yaks and their flocks 
of sheep. It is curious that even in the winter-time they 
can find grazing places, but the secret Hes in the fact that 
the slopes face the South in the regions where the wind 
blows strongest, so that the surface is usually bare. The 
snowfall in winter in most parts of Tibet is not heavy, and 
the climate being so dry, the snow is powdery, and the wind 
blows it along and forms great drifts in the hollows, leaving 
the exposed slopes usually clear. On these the herds, or 
flocks of sheep, obtain sufficient nourishment from such 
scattered patches of frozen grass or lichens as they are able 
to find. Of all the animals that the Tibetans have, the 
yak is the most useful. His long black hair, which reaches 
to the ground under his belly, is woven into tents or ropes. 
The milk, after they have drunk what they want, is turned 
into butter and cheese, of which they produce great 
quantities. When old, he is killed and his flesh is dried, 
providing meat for a long time. His hide suppHes leather 
of every kind. It is always used untanned, for no tanning 
is ever done in Tibet and any tanned skins always come 
up from India. The yak dung is in many places the only 
fuel to be got and is most carefully picked up. To the present 
generation of young children the yak is probably familiar 
from that dehghtful rhyme in " The Bad Child's Book of 
Beasts " :- — 

As a friend to the children, commend me the Yak — 

You will find it exactly the thing ; 
It will carry and fetch, you can ride on its back 

Or lead it about with a string. 



172 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Tibet, 

A desolate region of snow, 
Has for centuries made it a nursery pet, 

And surely the Tartar should know. 

Then tell your papa where the Yak can be got, 

And it he is awfully rich, 
He will buy you the creature — or else he will not ; 

I cannot be positive which. 

The traveller in Tibet can easily live on such supplies 
as can be drawn from the country. The Tibetan is always 
hospitable and will provide sheep, mUk, cheese and butter 
almost everywhere. Vegetables, however, of any kind are 
very scarce, though in the summer a species of spinach can 
be got in some places. Living, as the Tibetans do, far away 
from aU outside influences, their customs and manners have 
not changed, and are the same as they were several hundred 
years ago. I can fuUy sympathise with their present desire 
for seclusion and their eagerness not to be exploited by 
foreigners. They sent a few years ago some young Tibetan 
boys to Rugby to be educated in different professions. These 
boys have now returned again to Lhasa, and with their aid, 
and with the aid of others who are being sent out into the 
world to learn, they hope to be able to develop the resources 
of their own country at leisure, in their own way, and 
by themselves, without being exploited commercially by 
foreigners. 

The staple food of the Tibetans is tsampa (parched 
barley). This is ground up and either milk or tea is added, 
forming it into a kind of dough. This is put in a little bag, 
which they carry about with them when travelling, and 
is often their only food for several days. Tsampa can be 
obtained everywhere in Tibet, though it is easier to get it 
in the villages than from the tents of the nomads. Tea 
can, of course, be obtained everywhere, and, as I have 
described before, is mixed with salt and butter, churned 
up with great violence, and then poured into teapots. At 
every camp, and at every house, will be met fierce dogs. 



BACK TO CIVILISATION 173 

These dogs guard the flocks, or the nomad camps, and rather 
resemble large coUies ; as a rule, they are black and very- 
fierce. The Tibetans were, however, always very good 
in tying them up before we approached their camps. In 
many of the houses we found tied up just outside the door 
another kind of dog, a huge brute of the mastiff type, always 
extremely savage and ready, if he had not been tied up, 
to tear the intruder to pieces. The peasants are still treated 
as serfs, though only in a mild form. For aU Government 
officials, when on tour, they have to supply free transport 
and suppHes of aU kinds, so that official visits are not popular. 
At first the villagers were afraid that we might follow the 
example of the Tibetan officials and were much relieved 
to find that we did not do so. 

I cannot leave the subject of Tibet without a few words 
about the monasteries. These are divided into two great 
schools, the Red Cap School and the Yellow Cap School. 
The former was founded by the Buddhist Saint, Padma 
Sambhava or Guru Rimpoche, in a.d. 749. They are the 
older of the two monastic sects, but their morals are much 
looser than those of the Yellow Sect, and the Lamas or monks 
of this sect are often married. In one monastery belonging 
to the Red Sect near Kharta, the Lamas and their wives 
were aU living together. The Yellow Cap, or Gelukpa Sect, 
was founded in the fifteenth century by Tsong Kapa, who 
instituted a very much stricter moral code, and this sect 
looks down very much upon the Red Caps. The State 
religion of the country is Buddhism. By the middle of 
the seventeenth century, after a series of reincarnations, 
Nawang Lobsang had made himself master of Tibet and 
transferred his capital to Lhasa. He accepted the title of 
Dalai Lama (Ocean of Learning) from the Chinese, hence 
the Dalai Lama at Lhasa, by this doctrine of pohtical 
reincarnation, has absorbed all the pohtical power in the 
country into his own hands, although the Tashi Lama at 
Tashilumpo is in theory his senior and superior in spiritual 
matters. The old simple creed of the Buddhists can scarcely 



174 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

be recognised nowadays and is overlaid with devil worsMp 
in aU its forms, supernatural agencies abounding everywhere. 
The top of a pass, a mountain, a river, a bridge, a storm ; 
each will have its own particular god who is to be worshipped 
and propitiated. In many of the larger monasteries, too, 
they have oracles who are consulted far and wide and supposed 
to be able to foretell the future. These often acquire 
considerable power and influence by methods not unlike 
those resorted to in ancient Greece. It has been estimated 
that a fifth of the whole population of Tibet has entered 
monastic life. The conditions probably much resemble 
those which prevailed in mediaeval Europe. The monasteries 
contain nearly all the riches of the country. They own 
large estates ; they are the source of aU learning, and aU 
the arts and crafts seem to take their inspiration from 
articles for use in the monasteries. The ordinary Tibetan, 
surrounded as he is by the various spirits which occupy 
every valley and mountain top, is very superstitious. He 
therefore has inside his house his prayer wheel and his Httle 
shrine, before which he offers up incense daily. His Mani walls 
or mendongs, covered with inscribed stones or carved figures 
of Buddha, are alongside the paths he daily uses ; on the 
top of the mountains or passes, in addition to these prayer- 
covered stones, flutter rags printed over with prayers. All 
these are intended to propitiate the evil spirits. In places 
where there are particularly maHgnant devils, it may be 
necessary to buUd several Chortens in order to keep them 
in subjection, and these Chortens are filled with several 
thousands of prayers and sacred figures stamped in the clay. 
The country is divided up into districts, each under its 
own Jongpen, who is responsible direct to Lhasa or Shigatse 
and has yearly to send the revenue collected to headquarters. 
A certain percentage of the crops is collected every year, 
and in a year of good harvest the Jongpen is able to make 
a certain amount of money for himself in addition to what 
he has to send to Lhasa. Our visit to the Kharta VaUey 
was an unexpected windfall for the Kharta Jongpen, as I 



BACK TO CIVILISATION 175 

fancy that much of the money that we paid out to the different 
villages for suppKes or coolie hire eventually found its way 
into his pocket and was not Hkely to find its way to Lhasa. 
This may possibly have accounted for his pleasure in 
entertaining us and his desire to keep us there as long as 
possible. The Tibetans, however, everywhere have good 
manners and are invariably most polite — a pleasant 
characteristic. Although they are all Buddhists, and 
accordingly object to the taking of life, they do not in the 
least mind killing their sheep or their yaks for food, but 
they objected to our shooting wild sheep or gazelles or wild 
birds for food. I could have understood this objection 
better had they been vegetarians and not kiUed their sheep 
for eating purposes, but a real vegetarian, except in the 
strictest monasteries, is very rare in Tibet. 

There was a great fascination in roaming through the 
country as we did. It was the fascination of the unknown, 
this travelling in regions where Europeans had never travelled 
before, and where they had never even been seen. The 
people had exaggerated notions of our ferocity, and were 
fuU of fears as to what we might be like and as to what we 
might do. In these out-of-the-way parts they had heard 
vaguely of the fighting in 1904, and they imagined that our 
visit might be on the same lines. They imagined, too, 
that all Europeans were cruel and seized what they wanted 
without payment. They were therefore much surprised 
when they found that we treated them fairly and paid for 
everything that we wanted at very good rates. The 
Expedition may, I venture to think, take credit to itself for 
having certainly done a great deal of good in promoting 
more friendly relations between the Tibetans and ourselves, 
and in giving them a better understanding of what an 
Englishman is. Their ignorance of the outside world was 
at times astounding. Tibetan officials and traders were 
an exception, but it was seldom that the ordinary Tibetan 
ever left the valley in which he was born and bred, with the 
result that except for the wildest rumours, they knew nothing 



176 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

of the outside world. For long-distance journeys, the 
Tibetans used ambling mules or ponies, which were capable 
of going long distances and keeping up a speed of about 
5 miles an hour. To our idea, the Tibetan saddle with its 
high wooden framework is very uncomfortable, but on the 
top of their saddles they would put their bedding, spreading 
over it a brUliant and often beautifully coloured carpet as a 
saddle cloth. On the top of this the rider would sit perched, 
and, Adth a good ambling pony, could get along very 
comfortably. 

I always enjoyed travelling and moving about in Tibet. 
It hardly has the chmate of Tennyson's Island VaUey of 
Avihon — ^" Where faUs not hail or rain or snow, nor ever 
wind blows loudly "^ — for we used to get samples of nearly 
aU of these almost every day. But no matter how barren 
nor how bare the immediate surroundings were there was a 
sense of exhilaration and freedom in the air. There was 
never a sense of being confined in a narrow space. There 
was always some distant view where the colours would be 
continually changing. In the summer-time the climate 
was not unpleasant, and there was always the pleasure of 
finding some new and beautiful flower, oftentimes springing 
up out of the driest sand. Wherever there was water, there 
was sure to be vegetation and many bright-coloured flowers 
with every kind of wild-bird hfe. The shrill whistle of the 
marmot would often alone break the silence of the scene. 
Animal hfe in some form was almost always visible, whether 
it was the wild kiang roaming on the plains, or the gazeUe, 
or the wild sheep, there was always something of interest 
to watch. The little mouse hares which lived in great colonies 
would constantly dodge in and out of their holes and the 
song of the larks could always be heard. 

By the end of October the chmate was beginning to get 
very cold, the thermometer descending at times to Zero 
Fahrenheit, so that we were quite ready to leave the country, 
being anxious to get warm again, if only for a short time. 
There was sorrow in our hearts, however, at partmg with 



BACK TO CIVILISATION 177 

the friendly and hospitable folk whom we had encountered, 
and at leaving behind us the famiKar landscapes with the 
transparent pale blue atmosphere that is so hard to describe, 
and the distant views of range upon range of snowy mountains 
often reflected in the calm waters of some blue coloured 
lake. The attractions of Tibet may yet be strong enough 
to draw us back again once more. Many years ago 
the same attraction impelled me to cross the Himalayan 
mountains and to visit another part of Tibet, but my 
excursion was, I am afraid, not favourably regarded by the 
Indian Government and my leave was stopped for six months. 
The same attraction, however, still exists for this land of 
many colours with its lonely sunsets fuU of beauty, with its 
nights where the eager stars gleam bright as diamonds, and 
where the full moon shines upon the nameless mountains 
covered with snow and stiU as death. 

As we turned our backs upon the country we left winter 
behind us, and descending the Chumbi VaUey once more 
found ourselves in autumnal surroundings. The Himalayan 
larch were all of a beautiful golden colour ; the birch were 
aU turning brown, and the berberis were a brilKant scarlet. 
Red currants and the scarlet haws of the rose were stUl on 
the bushes. The currants were no longer sour to eat raw, 
and we picked many of them on the way down. Our pockets, 
too, were filled with seeds of rhododendrons and other flowers. 
On the way I was met by the native officer commanding the 
garrison at Yatung, which was now found by the 90th 
Punjabis. As I passed their quarters, the guard turned 
out, presenting arms very smartly, and aU the detachment 
came out and saluted. They were certainly a very weU- 
trained detachment. Once more the Macdonald family most 
kindly sent over a generous meal, besides presents of every 
sort and kind of European vegetable. From Yatung we 
obtained forty-five mules for our transport. These came 
along very much faster than the yaks and the donkeys that 
we had been using. Here Gyalzen Kazi, one of our 
interpreters, left us to return to his home at Gangtok. I 



178 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

was very sorry to lose him. He had been a pleasant 
companion and had been of great assistance to the 
Expedition. He was always most willing to undertake 
any difficult or unpleasant job there might be, and I never 
heard a murmur or grumble from him of any kind during 
the whole time that he was with us. Our march was only 
a short one of 11 rcdles to Langra, where there was a Tibetan 
rest-house built ia the Chinese style and rather reminding 
me of our rest-house at Tingri. It was a most perfect 
autumnal day, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The woods 
everywhere were very beautiful, the dark sUver fir trees 
showing up the scarlet and yellow of the bushes and the 
gold of the larch. Our cook, Acchu, was drunk again, but 
Poo prepared us a good meal instead. The next morning, 
to our surprise, on looking out we found a couple of inches 
of fresh snow on the ground and the snow was still faUing 
steadily. The mules, nevertheless, were all loaded up in 
good time, and I followed on foot to the top of the Jelep 
Pass, snow falling steadily aU the way — a fine granular 
snow. At the top of the pass the wind was blowing keenly, 
driving the snow into our faces. Besides the 6 inches of 
fresh snow here, there was a good deal of the old snow that 
had fallen a week or more ago, and in some places formed 
drifts several feet deep. It is seldom that a clear view is 
ever obtained on the Jelep Pass. It rained when we came 
over in May and it snowed now, and twice before, when I 
have crossed it, it rained aU the time. Snow fell aU the 
way down to Gnatong, where there were aheady a couple of 
inches of slush. The next mornmg was luckily fine, as we 
were to do a long march to Rongh — a distance of only 18 
nules, but with a descent of 9,500 feet. The first few nules 
we walked through the fresh snow, but in the afternoon 
we were wandering among the sweet scents of a tropical 
jungle with orchids still flowering on the trees and ripe 
oranges in the garden of our bungalow. We had jumped 
from winter to summer in a few hours. The Tibetan mules 
came along excellently, doing the march in just over eight 



BACK TO CIVILISATION 179 

hours, a very different proceeding to our Government mules 
on the way up, which we were compelled to discard at 
Sedongchen. We reached Darjeeling on October 25. Lord 
Ronaldshay was unfortunately away on tour on his way to 
Bhutan, and as he had travelled via Gangtok, we had missed 
seeing him on the way. The next few days we spent in 
getting rid of the remainder of our stores, selling anything 
perishable that we could, getting tents dried and mended, 
and storing everything else in view of a second Expedition. 
We here said good-bye to our other interpreter, Chheten 
Wangdi, who had served us most faithfully throughout 
the Expedition, and it was with the greatest regret that we 
took leave of him on the railway station at Darjeeling. 

Our Expedition had accomplished aU that it had set 
out to do. All the approaches to Mount Everest from the 
North-west, North, North-east and East had been carefully 
reconnoitred and a possible route to the top had been found 
up the North-east ridge. Chmatic conditions alone had 
prevented a much greater height being attained. Friendly 
relations had been estabhshed with the Tibetan officials 
and people wherever we went. Our travels had taken us 
through much unexplored and new country wherein we had 
discovered some magnificent and undreamt-of valleys where 
primeval forests existed such as we had never imagined to 
find in Tibet and where deep fiUed glens with the richest 
semi-tropical vegetation descended as low as 7,000 feet. 
Many beautiful flowers were discovered in these Alpine 
vaUeys, and we were able to collect a quantity of seeds from 
these which I hope may help to enrich and to beautify our 
gardens at home. A new part of the country has been 
opened up to human knowledge. It has been photographed 
and described. The surveyors have made an original survey 
at a scale of 4 miles to the inch of an area of some 12,000 
square miles ; a detailed photographic survey of 600 square 
miles of the environs of Mount Everest has been worked out, 
and, besides this, the maps of another 4,000 square miles of 
country have been revised. Dr. Heron, our indefatigable 



180 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION 

geologist, Mmself travelled over the greater part of this area, 
and has carefuUy investigated the geology of the whole 
region. That the Expedition was able to accomplish so much 
in such a short time was due to the hearty co-operation and 
keenness of aU the members of the party. We were a happy 
famUy and, to use a rowing expression, we aU " puUed to- 
gether." Such success as we attained is entirely due to their 
strenuous and ceaseless efforts, and I can only express my 
gratitude to them for the unselfish way in which they helped 
and assisted me on every occasion. 

The Expedition of 1921 is over ; many problems have 
been solved, much new country has been brought within 
our ken, and many new beauties have been revealed, but 
the soul of man is never content with what has been attained. 
The solution of one problem only brings forward fresh 
problems to be solved, so this Expedition into unknown 
country brings within the realms of possibility further travels 
and further problems to be solved. There is much that yet 
remains to be done, much that remains to be discovered ; 
and though we may not be privileged to discover a new 
race of hairy snow men, yet there is a wild and uncharted 
country fuU of beauty and interest that awaits those who 
dare face the discomfort and hardships of travelling in Tibet 
— discomforts which are soon forgotten and leave behind 
them only the memories of very wonderful scenes and places 
which the passing of time can never efface. 

Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us, 

Let us journey to a lonely land I know ; 
There's a whisper in the night wind, there's a star, a gleam to guide us, 

And the wild is caUing, calling, let us go. 

R. W. S. 



THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE 
MOUNTAIN 

By 
GEORGE H. LEIGH-MALLORY 



CHAPTER XII 
THE NORTHERN APPROACH 

As a matter of history it has been stated aheady in an 
earUer chapter of this book that the highest mountain in 
the world attracted attention so early as 1850. When we 
started our travels in 1921, something was aheady known 
about it from a sm-veyor's point of view ; it was a triangulated 
peak with a position on the map ; but from the mountaineer's 
point of view almost nothing was known. Mount Everest 
had been seen and photographed from various points on 
the SingaUla ridge as well as from Kampa Dzong ; from 
these photographs it may dimly be made out that snow hes 
on the upper part of the Eastern face at no very steep angle, 
while the arete bounding this face on the North comes down 
gently for a considerable distance. But the whole angle 
subtended at the great summit by the distance between 
the two of these view-points which are farthest apart is 
only 54°. The North-west sides of the mountain had never 
been photographed and nothing was known of its lower 
parts anywhere. Perhaps the distant view most valuable 
to a mountaineer is that from Sandakphu, because it suggests 
gigantic precipices on the South side of the mountain so that 
he need have no regrets that access is barred in that direction 
for poUtical reasons. 

The present reconnaissance began at Kampa Dzong, no 
less than 100 nules away, and in consequence of misfortunes 
which the reader wiU not have forgotten was necessarily 
entrusted to Mr. G. H. BuUock and myself, the only 
representatives of the Alpine Club now remaining in the 
Expedition. It may seem an irony of fate that actually 
on the day after the distressing event of Dr. Kellas' death 

183 



184 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

we experienced the strange elation of seeing Everest for the 
first time. It was a perfect early morning as we plodded 
up the barren slopes above our camp and rising behind the 
old rugged fort which is itself a singularly impressive and 
dramatic spectacle ; we had mounted perhaps a thousand 
feet when we stayed and turned, and saw what we came to 
see. There was no mistaking the two great peaks in the 
West : that to the left must be Makalu, grey, severe and yet 
distinctly graceful, and the other away to the right — ^who 
could doubt its identity ? It was a prodigious white fang 
excrescent from the jaw of the world. We saw Mount 
Everest not quite sharply defined on account of a sKght 
haze in that direction ; this circumstance added a touch of 
mystery and grandeur ; we were satisfied that the highest 
of mountains would not disappoint us. And we learned one 
fact of great importance : the lower parts of the mountain 
were hidden by the range of nearer mountains clearly shown 
in the map running North from the Nila La and now called 
the Gyanka Range, but it was possible to distingviish aU 
that showed near Everest beyond them by a difference in 
tone, and we were certain that one great rocky peak appearing 
a little way to the left of Everest must belong to its near 
vicinity. 

It was inevitable, as we proceeded to the West from 
Kampa Dzong, that we should lose sight of Mount Everest ; 
after a few miles even its tip was obscured by the Gyanka 
Range, and we naturally began to wonder whether it wotild 
not be possible to ascend one of these nearer peaks which 
must surely give us a wonderful view. I had hopes that 
we should be crossing the range by a high pass, in which 
case it would be a simple matter to ascend some eminence 
near it. But at Tinki we learned that our route would 
lie in the gorge to the North of the mountains where the 
river Yaru cuts its way through from the East to join the 
Arun. 

From Gyanka Nangpa, which hes under a rocky summit 
over 20,000 feet high, BuUock and I, on June 11, made an 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 185 

early Start and proceeded down the gorge. It was a perfect 
morning and for once we had tolerably swift animals to 
ride ; we were fortunate in choosing the right place to ford 
the river and our spirits were high. How could they be 
otherwise ? Ever since we had lost sight of Everest the 
Gyanka Moimtains had been our ultimate horizon to the 
West. Day by day as we had approached them our thoughts 
had concentrated more and more upon what lay beyond. 
On the far side was a new country. Now the great Aran 
River was to divulge its secrets and we should see Everest 
again after nearly halving the distance. The natiire of the 
gorge was such that our curiosity could not be satisfied 
until the last moment. After crossing the stream we followed 
the flat margin of its right bank until the cKffs converging 
to the exit were towering above us. Then in a minute we 
were out on the edge of a wide sandy basin stretching away 
with complex undulations to further hiUs. Sand and barren 
hills as before — but with a difference ; for we saw the long 
Aran VaUey proceeding Southwards to cut through the 
Himalayas and its western arm which we should have to 
foUow to Tingri ; and there were marks of more ancient 
river beds and strange inland lakes. It was a desolate scene, 
I suppose ; no flowers were to be seen nor any sign of Kfe 
beyond some stunted gorse bushes on a near hillside and 
a few patches of coarse brown grass, and the only habitations 
were dry inhuman ruins ; but whatever else was dead, our 
interest was ahve. 

After a brief halt a little way out in the plain, to take 
our bearings and speculate where the great mountains should 
appear, we made our way up a steep hill to a rocky crest 
overlooking the gorge. The only visible snow mountains 
were in Sikkim. Kanchenjunga was clear and eminent ; 
we had never seen it so fine before ; it now seemed singularly 
strong and monumental, Uke the leonine face of some splendid 
musician with a glory of white hair. In the direction of 
Everest no snow mountain appeared. We saw the long 
base tongues descending into the Aran VaUey from the 



186 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

Gyanka Range, above them in the middle distance an 
amazingly sharp rock summit and below a blue depth most 
unlike Tibet as we had known it hitherto. A conical hiU 
stood sentinel at the far end of the vaUey, and in the distance 
was a bank of clouds. 

Our attention was engaged by the remarkable spike of 
rock, a proper aiguille. As we were observing it a rift opened 
in the clouds behind ; at first we had merely a fleeting 
glimpse of some mountain evidently much more distant, 
then a larger and clearer view revealed a recognizable form ; 
it was Makalu appearing just where it should be according 
to our calculations with map and compass. 

We were now able to make out almost exactly where 
Everest should be ; but the clouds were dark in that direction. 
We gazed at them intently through field glasses as though 
by some miracle we might pierce the veU. Presently the 
miracle happened. We caught the gleam of snow behind 
the grey mists. A whole group of mountains began to 
appear in gigantic fragments. Mountain shapes are often 
fantastic seen through a mist ; these were like the wildest 
creation of a dream. A preposterous triangular lump rose 
out of the depths ; its edge came leaping up at an angle of 
about 70° and ended nowhere. To the left a black serrated 
crest was hanging in the sky incredibly. Gradually, very 
gradually, we saw the great mountain sides and glaciers 
and aretes, now one fragment and now another through 
the floating rifts, until far higher in the sky than imagination 
had dared to suggest the white summit of Everest appeared. 
And in this series of partial ghmpses we had seen a whole ; 
we were able to piece together the fragments, to interpret 
the dream. However much might remain to be imderstood, 
the centre had a clear meaning as one mountain shape, the 
shape of Everest. 

It is hardly possible of course from a distance of 57 nules 
to formulate an accurate idea of a mountain's shape. But 
some of its most remarkable features may be distiaguished 
for what they are. We were looMiig at Everest from about 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 187 

North-east and evidently a long arete was thrust out towards 
us. Some Httle distance below the summit the arete came 
down to a black shoulder, which we conjectured would be 
an insuperable obstacle. To the right of this we saw the 
sky line in profile and judged it not impossibly steep. The 
edge was probably a true arete because it appeared to be 
joined by a col to a sharp peak to the North. From the 
direction of this col a vaUey came down to the East and 
evidently drained into the Arvm. This was one fact of 
supreme importance which was now estabhshed and we 
noticed that it agreed with what was shown on the map ; 
the map in fact went up in our esteem and we were inclined 
hereafter to believe in its veracity untU we estabhshed the 
contrary. Another fact was even more remarkable. We 
knew something more about the great peak near Everest 
which we had seen from Kampa Dzong ; we knew now that 
it was not a separate mountain ; in a sense it was part of 
Everest, or rather Everest was not one mountain but two ; 
this great black mountain to the South was connected with 
Everest by a continuous arete and divided from it only by 
a snow col which must itself be at least 27,000 feet high. 
The black cUffs of this mountain, which faced us, were 
continuous with the icy East face of Everest itself. 

A bank of cloud still lay across the face of the mountain 
when BuUock and I left the crest where we were estabhshed. 
It was late in the afternoon. We had looked down into the 
gorge and watched our httle donkeys crossing the stream. 
Now we proceeded to foUow their tracks across the plain. 
The wind was fiercely blowing up the sand and swept it 
away to leeward, transforming the dead flat surface into a 
wriggling sea of watered silk. The party were aU sheltering 
in their tents when we rejoined them. Our camp was 
situated on a grassy bank below which by some miracle a 
spring weEs out from the sand. We also sought shelter. 
But a short while after simset the wind subsided. We all 
came forth and proceeded to a little eminence near at hand ; 
and as we looked down the valley there was Everest 



188 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

cahn in the stillness of evening and clear in the last 
light. 

I have dwelt upon this episode at some length partly 
because ia aU our travels before we reached the mountain 
it is for me beyond other adventures unforgettable ; and 
not less because the vision of Everest inhabiting our minds 
after this day had no small influence upon our deductions 
when we came to close quarters with the mountain. We 
made other opportunities before reaching Tingri to ascend 
likely hills for what we coidd see ; notably from Shekar 
Dzong we made a divergence from the line of march and 
from a hill above Ponglet, on a morning of cloudless sunrise, 
saw the whole group of mountains of which Everest is the 
centre. But no view was so instructive as that above 
Shiling and we added little to the knowledge gained that 
day. 

On June 23, after a day's interval to arrange stores, the 
climbing party set forth from Tingri Dzong. We were two 
Sahibs, sixteen coohes, a Sirdar, Gyalzen and a cook Dukpa. 
The process of selecting the coohes had been begun some 
time before this ; the long task of nailing their boots had 
been nearly completed on the march and we were now 
confident that sixteen of the best Sherpas with their chmbing 
boots, ice axes and each a suit of underwear would serve us 
weU. The Sirdar through whom coohes had been engaged 
in the first instance seemed to understand what was wanted 
and to have sufficient authority, and Dukpa, though we could 
not expect from him any cuhnary refinements, had shown 
himself a person of some energy and competence who should 
do much to reduce the discomforts of fife in camp. Our 
equipment was seriously deficient in one respect : we were 
short of words. A few hours spent in Darjeehng with a 
Grammar of Tibetan had easUy convinced me that I should 
profit httle in the short time available by the study of that 
language. It had been assumed by both Bullock and myself 
that our experienced leaders would give the necessary orders 
for organisation in any dialect that might be required we 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 189 

had found little opportunity since losing them to learn a 
language, and our one hope of conversing with the Sirdar 
was a vocabulary of about 150 words which I had written 
down in a notebook to be committed to memory on the 
march and consulted when occasion should arise. 

The task before us was not likely to prove a simple and 
straightforward matter, and we had no expectation that 
it would be quickly concluded. It would be necessary 
in the first place to find the mountain ; as we looked across 
the wide plains from Tingri and saw the dark monsoon 
clouds gathered in aU directions we were not reassured. 
And there would be more than one approach to be found. 
We should have to explore a number of vaUeys radiating 
from Everest and separated by high ridges which would 
make lateral communication extremely difficult ; we must 
learn from which direction various parts of the mountain 
could most conveniently be reached. And beyond aU 
investigation of the approaches we should have to scrutinise 
Mount Everest itself. Our reconnaissance must aim at a 
complete knowledge of the various faces and aretes, a correct 
understanding of the whole form and structure of the mountain 
and the distribution of its various parts ; we must distinguish 
the vulnerable places in its armour and finally pit our skfil 
against the obstacles wherever an opportunity of ascent 
should appear untU aU such opportxmities were exhausted. 
The whole magnitude of the enterprise was very present in 
our minds as we left Tingri. We decided that a preHminary 
reconnaissance should include the first two aims of finding 
the approaches to Mount Everest and determining its shape, 
while anything in the nature of an assault should be left 
to the last as a separate stage of organisation and effort. 
In the result we may claim to have kept these ends in view 
without allowing the less important to prey upon the 
greater. So long as a doubt remained as to the way we 
should choose we made no attempt to chmb the peak ; we 
required ourselves first to find out as much as possible by 
more distant observations. 



190 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

Mount Everest, as it turned out, did not prove difficvdt 
to find. Almost in the direct Hne from Tingri are two great 
peaks respectively 26,870 and 25,990 feet high — ^known 
to the Survey of India as Mi and M2 and to Tibetans as 
Cho-Uyo and Gyachung Kang, They lie about W.N.W. of 
Everest. We had to decide whether we should pass to the 
South of them, leaving them on our left, or to the North. 
In the first case we surmised that we might find otirselves 
to the South of a western arete of Everest, and possibly in 
Nepal, which was out of bounds. The arete, if it existed, 
might perhaps be reached from the North and give us the 
view we should require of the South-western side, in which 
case one base would serve us for a large area of investigation 
and we should economise time that would otherwise be 
spent in moving our camp round from one side to another. 
Consequently we chose the Northern approach. We learned 
from local knowledge that in two days we might reach a 
village and monastery called Chobuk, and from there 
could foUow a long vaUey to Everest. And so it proved. 
Chobuk was not reached without some diffictdty, but this 
was occasioned not by obstacles in the country but by the 
manners of Tibetans. At Tingri we had hired four pack 
animals. We had proceeded 2 or 3 miles across the plain 
when we perceived they were heading in the wrong direction. 
We were trusting to the guidance of their local drivers and 
felt very uncertain as to where exactly we should be aiming ; 
but their line was about 60° to the South of our objective 
according to a guesswork compass bearing. An almost 
interminable three-cornered argument followed. It appeared 
that our guides intended to take five days to Chobuk. 
They knew aU about " ca' canny." In the end we decided 
to take the risk of a separation ; Gyalzen went with the 
buUocks and our tents to change transport at the village 
where we were intended to stay the night, whUe the rest of 
us made a bee line for a bridge where we should have to 
cross the Rongbuk stream. At the foot of a vast moraine 
we waited on the edge of the " maidan," anxiously hoping 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 191 

that we should see some sign of fresh animals approaching ; 
and at length we saw them. It was a late camp that evening 
on a strip of meadow beside the stream, but we had the 
comfort of reflecting that we had foiled the natives, whose 
aim was to retard our progress; and in the sequel we reached 
our destination with no further trouble. 

On June 25 we crossed the stream at Chobuk. Tibetan 
bridges are so constructed as to offer the passenger ample 
opportunities of experiencing the sensation of insecurity 
and contemplating the possibilities of disaster. This one 
was no exception. We had no wish to risk our stores, and 
it was planned that the beasts should swim. They were 
accordingly unladen and driven with yeU and blow by a 
willing crowd, until one more frightened than the rest plunged 
into the torrent and the others followed. We now found 
ourselves on the right bank of the Rongbuk stream, and 
knew we had but to follow it up to reach the glacier at the 
head of the valley. An hour or so above Chobuk we entered 
a gorge with high red chffs above us on the left. Below 
them was a httle space of fertUe ground where the moisture 
draining down from the limestone above was caught before 
it reached the stream — a green ribbon stretched along the 
margin with grass and low bushes, yeUow-flowering asters, 
rhododendrons and juniper. I think we had never seen 
anything so green since we came up on to the tableland 
of Tibet. It was a day of brilliant sunshine, as yet warm 
and windless. The memory of Alpine meadows came into 
my mind. I remembered their manifold allurements ; I 
could almost smell the scent of pines. Now I was filled 
with the desire to he here in this " oasis " and live at ease 
and sniff the clean fragrance of mountain plants. But we 
went on, on and up the long valley winding across a broad 
stony bay ; and all the stony hillsides under the midday 
sun were ahke monotonously dreary. At length we followed 
the path up a steeper rise crowned by two chortens between 
which it passes. We paused here in sheer astonishment. 
Perhaps we had half expected to see Mount Everest at this 



192 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

moment. In the back of my mind were a host of questions 
about it clamouring for answer. But the sight of it now 
banished every thought. We forgot the stony wastes and 
regrets for other beauties. We asked no questions and 
made no comment, but simply looked. 

It is perhaps because Everest presented itself so 
dramatically on this occasion that I find the Northern 
aspect more particularly imaged in my mind, when I recall 
the mountain. But in any case this aspect has a special 
significance. The Rongbuk VaUey is weU constructed to 
show ofi the peak at its head ; for about 20 miles it is 
extraordinarily straight and in that distance rises only 
4,000 feet, the glacier, which is 10 miles long, no more steeply 
than the rest. In consequence of this arrangement one 
has only to be raised very sHghtly above the bed of the 
vaUey to see it almost as a flat way up to the very head of 
the glacier from which the chffs of Everest spring. To 
the place where Everest stands one looks along rather than 
up. The glacier is prostrate ; not a part of the mountain ; 
not even a pediment ; merely a floor footing the high walls. 
At the end of the vaUey and above the glacier Everest rises 
not so much a peak as a prodigious mountain-mass. There 
is no comphcation for the eye. The highest of the world's 
great mountains, it seems, has to make but a single gesture 
of magnificence to be lord of aU, vast in unchallenged and 
isolated supremacy. To the discerning eye other mountains 
are visible, giants between 23,000 and 26,000 feet high. Not 
one of their slenderer heads even reaches their chief's shoulder ; 
beside Everest they escape notice — such is the pre-eminence 
of the greatest. 

Considered as a structure Mount Everest is seen from 
the Rongbuk VaUey to achieve height with amazing 
simphcity. The steep waU 10,000 feet high is contained 
between two colossal members — to the left the North-eastern 
arete, which leaves the summit at a gentle angle and in a 
distance of about half a mile descends only 1,000 feet before 
turning more sharply downwards from a clearly defined 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 193 

shoulder ; and to the right the North-west arete (its true 
direction is about W.N.W.), which comes down steeply 
from the summit but makes up for the weaker nature of 
this support by immense length below. Such is the broad 
plan. In one respect it is modified. The wide angle between 
the two main aretes involves perhaps too long a face ; a 
further support is added. The Northern face is brought 
out a little below the North-east shoulder and then turned 
back to meet the crest again, so that from the point of the 
shoulder a broad arete leads down to the North and is 
connected by a snow col at about 23,000 feet with a Northern 
wing of mountains which forms the right bank of the Rongbuk 
Glacier and to some extent masks the view of the lower 
parts of Everest. Nothing could be stronger than this 
arrangement and it is nowhere fantastic. We do not see 
jagged crests and a multitude of pumacles, and beautiful 
as such ornament may be we do not miss it. The outhne 
is comparatively smooth because the stratification is 
horizontal, a circumstance which seems again to give strength, 
emphasising the broad foundations. And yet Everest is a 
rugged giant. It has not the smooth undulations of a snow 
mountain with white snow cap and glaciated flanks. It 
is rather a great rock mass, coated often with a thin layer 
of white powder which is blown about its sides, and bearing 
perennial snow only on the gentler ledges and on several 
wide faces less steep than the rest. One such place is the 
long arm of the North-west arete which with its sKghtly 
articulated buttresses is like the nave of a vast cathedral 
roofed with snow. I was, in fact, reminded often by this 
Northern view of Winchester Cathedral with its long high 
nave and low square tower ; it is only at a considerable 
distance that one appreciates the great height of this buUding 
and the strength which seems capable of supporting a far 
taUer tower. Similarly with Everest ; the summit Hes 
back so far along the immense aretes that big as it always 
appears one required a distant view to reafise its height ; 
and it has no spire though it might easUy bear one ; I have 



194 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

thought sometimes that a Matterhorn might be piled on 
the top of Everest and the gigantic structure would support 
the added weight in stable equanimity. 

On June 26 we pitched our tents in fuU view of Everest 
and a little way beyond the large monastery of Choyling 
which provides the habitations nearest to the mountain, 
about 16 miles away. After three days' march from the 
Expedition's headquarters at Tingri we had found the 
object of our quest and established a base in the Rongbuk 
Valley, which was to serve us for a month. 

The first steps in a prolonged reconnaissance such as 
we were proposing to undertake were easily determined by 
topographical circumstances. Neither Bullock nor I was 
previously acquainted with any big mountains outside the 
Alps ; to our experience in the Alps we had continually to 
refer, both for understanding this country and for estimating 
the efforts required to reach a given point in it. The Alps 
provided a standard of comparison which alone coidd be 
our guide untU we had acquired some fresh knowledge 
in the new surroundings. No feature of what we saw so 
immediately challenged this comparison as the glacier 
ahead of us ; in so narrow a glacier it was hardly surprising 
that the lower part of it should be covered with stones, 
but higher the whole surface was white ice, and the white 
ice came down in a broad stream tapering gradually to a 
point when it was lost in the waste of the brown grey. What 
was the meaning of this ? Even from a distance it was 
possible to make out that the white stream contained 
pinnacles of ice. Was it all composed of pinnacles ? Would 
they prove an insuperable obstacle ? In the Alps the main 
glaciers are most usually highways, the ways offered to 
the climber for his travelling. Were they not to prove 
highways here ? 

Owe first expedition was designed to satisfy our curiosity 
on this head. Allowing a bountiful margin of time for 
untoward contingencies we set forth on June 27 with five 
cooHes at 3.15 a.m., and made our way up the valley with 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 195 

a good moon to help us. To be tramping under the stars 
toward a great mountain is always an adventure ; now 
we were adventuring for the first time in a new mountain 
country which still held in store for us all its surprises and 
almost all its beauties. It was not our plan at present 
to make any allowance for the special condition of elevation ; 
we expected to learn how that condition would teU and how 
to make allowances for the future. We started from our 
camp at 16,000 feet — above the summit of Mont Blanc- 
just as we should have left an Alpine hut 6,000 feet lower, 
and when we took our first serious halt at 7 a.m. had already 
crossed the narrow end of the glacier. That short experience 
— an hour or so — was sufficient for the moment. The 
hummocks of ice covered with stones of all sizes — like the 
huge waves of a brown angry sea — gave us no chance of 
ascending the glacier ; one might hopefuUy foUow a trough 
for a little distance but invariably to be stopped by the 
necessity of mounting once more to a crest and descending 
again on the other side. Nevertheless, we were not dis- 
satisfied with our progress. We were now in a stream bed 
between the glacier and its left bank and above the exit of 
the main glacier stream, which comes out on this side well 
above the snout. The watercourse offered an opportunity 
of progress ; it was dry almost everjnvhere and for a bout 
of leaping from boulder to boulder we were usually rewarded 
by a space of milder walking on the flat sandy bed. Our 
pace I considered entirely satisfactory as we went on after 
breakfast ; unconsciously I was led into something like 
a race by one of the coohes who was pressing along at my 
side. I noticed that though he was sfightly built he seemed 
extremely strong and active, compact of muscle ; but he 
had not yet learnt the art of walking rhythmically and 
balancing easily from stone to stone. I wondered how 
long he would keep up. Presently we came to a corner 
where our stream bed ended and a small glacier-snout was 
visible above us apparently descending from the North- 
west. We gathered on a high bank of stones to look out 



196 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

over the glacier. I observed now that the whole aspect 
of the party had. changed. The majority were more than 
momentarily tired, they were visibly sufiering from some 
sort of malaise. It was not yet nine o'clock and we had 
risen barely 2,000 feet, but their spirits had gone. There 
were grunts instead of laughter. 

The glacier's left bank which we were following was 
now trending to the right. To the South and standing 
in front of the great North-west arm of Everest was a 
comparatively small and very attractive snow peak, perhaps 
a Uttle less than 21,000 feet high. We had harboured a vague 
ambition to reach its shoTilder, a likely point for prospecting 
the head of the Rongbuk Glacier. But between us and 
this objective was a wide stretch of hummocky ice which 
had every appearance of being something more than a 
mere bay of the main glacier. We suspected a western 
branch and proceeded to confirm our suspicion. After a 
rough crossing below the glacier above us we were fortunate 
enough to find another trough wider .than the first and 
having a flat sandy bottom where we walked easily enough. 
Presently leaving the coohes to rest on the edge of the glacier 
Bullock and I mounted a high stony shoulder, and from 
there, at 18,500 feet, saw the glacier stretching away to 
the West, turning sharply below us to rise more steeply than 
before. Cloud prevented us from distinguishing what 
appeared to be a high mountain ridge at the far end of it. 

It was evident that nothing was to be gained at present 
by pushing our investigations further to the West. Our 
cm^iosity was as yet unsatisfied about those white spires 
of ice to which our eyes had constantly returned. We 
declined the alternative of retracing our steps and without 
further delay set about to cross the glacier. It was now 
eleven o'clock and we were under no delusion that the task 
before us would be other than arduous and long. But 
the reward in interest and valuable information promised 
to be great, for, by exploring the glacier's right bank during 
our descent we should learn all we wanted to know before 



THE NORTHEEN APPROACH 197 

making plans for an advance. And we hoped to be in 
before dark. 

The stone-covered ice on which we first embarked 
compared favoiu-ably with that of our earher experience 
before breakfast. The sea, so to speak, was not so choppy ; 
the waves were longer. We were able to f oUow convenient 
troughs for considerable distances. But at the bottom of a 
trough which points whither it will it is impossible to keep 
a definite direction and difficult to know to what extent 
one is erring. An hour's hard work was required to bring 
us to the edge of the white ice. Our first question was 
answered at a glance. It had always seemed improbable 
that these were seracs such as one meets on an Alpine 
icefall, and clearly they were not. We saw no signs of 
lateral crevasses. The shapes were comparatively conical 
and regular, not dehcately poised but firmly based, safely 
perpendicular and not dangerously impending. They were 
the result not of movement but of melting, and it was 
remarkable that on either side the black ice looked over the 
white, as though the glacier had sunk in the middle. The 
pinnacles resembled a topsy-turvy system of colossal icicles, 
icicles thrust upwards from a common icy mass, the whole 
resting on a definable floor. The largest were about 50 
feet high. 

We were divided from this fairy world of spires by a 
deep boundary moat and entered it on the far side by what 
may be described as a door but that it had no lintel. An 
alley led us over a low wall and we had reached the interior. 
A connected narrative of our wanderings in this amazing 
country could hardly be true to its disconnected character. 
The White Rabbit himself would have been bewildered 
here. No course seemed to lead anywhere. Our idea was 
to keep to the floor so far as we were able ; but most usually 
we were scrambling up a chimney or sHthering down one, 
cutting round the foot of a tower or actually traversing 
along an icy crest. To be repeatedly crossing httle cols 
with the continued expectation of seeing a way beyond 



198 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

was a sufficiently exciting labour ; it was also sufficiently 
laborious since the chopping of steps was necessary almost 
everywhere ; but fatigue was out of sight in the enchanted 
scene, with the cool dehght of Httle lakes, of the ice reflected 
in their unruffled waters and of blue sky showing between 
the white spires. We had but one misadventure, and 
that of no consequence — ^it was my fate when crossing the 
frozen surface of one httle lake to suffer a sudden immersion : 
the loss of dignity perhaps was more serious than the chilling 
of ardour, for we soon came upon a broadening alley and 
came out from our labyrinth as suddenly as we entered 
it, to he and bask in the warm sun. 

Our crossing of the white ice after aU had taken Uttle 
more than two hours, and we might weU consider ourselves 
fortunate. But it must be remembered that we were far 
from fresh at the start and now the reaction set in. The 
stone-covered glacier on this side, besides being a much 
narrower belt was clearly not going to give us trouble, and 
after an ample halt we started across it easily enough. 
On the right bank we had noticed many hoiirs before above 
the glacier a broad flat shelf, presumably an old moraine, 
and a clear mark along the hillside away down to a point 
below the snout. This was now our objective and no doubt 
once we had gained it our troubles would be ended. But 
in the first place it had to be gained. In the Alps it has 
often seemed laborious to go up hfll towards the end of a 
day : it was a new sensation to find it an almost impossible 
exertion to drag oneself up a matter of 150 feet. And 
further exertions were to be required of us. A httle way 
down the valley a glacier stream came in on our right ; we 
had observed this before and hopefully expected to follow 
our terrace round and rejoin it on the far side of the guUy. 
But it was late in the afternoon and the stream was at its 
fuUest. We followed it down with defeated expectations ; 
it always proved just too dangerous to cross. Finally it 
formed a lake at the edge of the glacier before disappearing 
beneath it and obhged us to make a detour on the ice once 



THE NOETHERN APPROACH 199 

more. I suppose this obstacle was mild enough. ; but again 
an ascent was involved, and after it at least one member 
of the party seemed incapable of further effort. Another 
halt was necessary. We were now down to about 17,000 
feet and at the head of a long passage at the side of the 
glacier, similar to that we had ascended in the morning 
on the other bank. Those who suffer from altitude on a 
mountain have a right to expect a recovery on the descent. 
But I saw no signs of one yet. It was a long painful 
hour balancing from boulder to boulder along the passage, 
with the conscious effort of keeping up the feat until we 
came out into the flat basin at the glacier end. Then as 
we left the glacier behind us the day seemed to come right. 
One obstacle remained, a stream which had been crossed 
with difiiculty in the morning and was now swollen to a 
formidable torrent. It was carried with a rush — this was 
no moment for delay. Each man chose his own way for 
a wetting ; for my part, after a series of exciting leaps on to 
submerged stones I landed in the deepest part of the stream 
with the pick of my axe dug iato the far bank to help me 
scramble out. After this I remember only of the last 4 
mUes the keen race against the gathering darkness ; fatigue 
was forgotten and we reached camp at 8.15 p.m., tired 
perhaps, but not exhausted. 

It has seemed necessary to give an account of this first 
expedition in some detail in order to emphasise certain 
conditions which governed aU our movements from the 
Rongbuk VaUey. We now knew how to get about. Flat 
though the glacier might be, it was no use for travelling 
in any part we had seen, not a road but an obstacle. The 
obstacle, however, had not proved insurmountable, and 
though the crossing had been laborious and long, we were 
not convinced that it need be so long another time ; careful 
reconnaissance might reveal a better way, and we had httle 
doubt that both the main glacier and its Western branch 
could be used freely for lateral communication if we chose. 
It would not always be necessary in organisiag an expedition 



200 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

to be encamped on one side of the glacier rather than the 
other. And we had discovered that it was not a difficult 
matter to make our way along the glacier sides ; we could 
choose either a trough or a shelf. 

We had also been greatly interested by the phenomena 
of fatigue. The most surprising fact when we apphed our 
standard of comparison was that coming down had proved 
so laborious ; Bidlock and I had each discovered indepen- 
dently that we got along better when we remembered to 
breathe hard, and we already suspected what we afterwards 
estabhshed — that it was necessary to adopt a conscious 
method of breathing deeply for coming down as for going 
up. Another inference, subsequently confirmed on many 
occasions, accused the glacier. The mid-day sun had been 
hot as we crossed it and I seemed to notice some enervating 
influence which had not affected me elsewhere. It was the 
glacier that had knocked me out, not the hard work alone 
but some mahgnant quahty in the atmosphere, which I 
can neither describe nor explain ; and in crossing a glacier 
during the day I always afterwards observed the same 
effect ; I might feel as fit and fresh as I could wish on the 
moraine at the side but only once succeeded in crossing a 
glacier without feehng a despairing lassitude. 
I shall now proceed to quote from my diary : 
June 28. — A slack day in camp. It is difficult to induce 
coolies to take any steps to make themselves more com- 
fortable. We're lucky to have this fine weather. The 
mountain appears not to be intended for climbing. I've 
no inclination to think about it in steps to the summit. 
Nevertheless, we gaze much through field-glasses. E. is, 
generally speaking, convex, steep in lower parts and slanting 
back to summit. Last section of East arete * should go ; 
but rocks up to the shoulder are uninviting. An arete 
must join up here, coming down towards us and connecting 



* It had not yet been established that the true direction of this arete 
is North-east. 



THE NOETHERN APPROACH 



201 



up with first peak to N.* There's no true North arete to 
the summit, as we had supposed at first. It's more Hke 
this : 



2"d Peak 
to North 




SUMMIT 



G. H. B. thinks Httle of the North-west arm. But I'm not 
so siu-e ; much easy going on that snow if we can get to 
it and rocks above probably easier than they look — steep 
but broken. Are we seeing the true edge ? I wish some 
folk at home could see the precipice on this side — a grim 
spectacle most unlike the long gentle snow slopes suggested 
by photos. Amusing to think how one's vision of the last 
efiort has changed ; it looked like crawling half-bhnd up 
easy snow, an even slope all the way up from a camp on 
a flat snow shoulder ; but it won't be that sort of grind ; 
we'll want climbers and not half-dazed ones ; a tougher 
job than I bargained for, sanguine as usual. 

E. is a rock mountain. 

Obviously we must get round to the West first. The 
Western glacier looks as flat as this one. Perhaps we shall 

* i.e. the North Peak (Changtse). 



202 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

be able to walk round into another cwm* on the far side of 
North-west buttress. 

June 29. — Estabhshed First Advanced Camp. 

The start late, about 8 a.m., an hour later than ordered. 
Loads must be arranged better if anything is to be done 
efficiently. Gyalzen's response to being hustled is to tie 
knots or coUect tent pegs — with no idea of superintending 
operations. An exciting day with destination unfixed. 
We speculated that the shelf on the left bank would resemble 
that on right. A passage on stone-covered glacier unavoid- 
able and bad for coolies — perhaps to-day's loads were too 
heavy for this sort of country. From breakfast place of 
27th I went on with Gyalzen, following up a fresh-water 
stream to the shelf ; good going on this shelf for forty 
minutes, with no sign of more water, and I decided to come 
back to the stream. Just as we were turning I saw a pond 
of water and a spring, an ideal place, and it's much better 
to be further on. Real good luck. Wind blows down 
the glacier and the camp is well sheltered. Only crab that 
we lose the STin early — 4 p.m. to-day ; but on the other 
hand it should hit us very soon after sunrise. 

CooHes in between 3.30 and 4.30. Dorji Gompa first, 
stout fellow, with a big load. They seem happy and 
interested. ... It should now be possible to carry recon- 
naissance well up the mam glacier and to the basin Westwards 
without moving further — once we get accustomed to this 
elevation. 

June 30. — ^A short day with second f party, following the 
shelf to a corner which marks roughly the junction of the 
main glacier with its Western branch. A clearing day after 
a good night ; we found a good way across to the opposite 
corner, about an hour across, and came back in leisurely 
fashion. Neither B. nor I felt fit. 

* Cwm, combe or corry — the rounded head of a valley. 

f The cooHes had been divided into three parties -nhich were to spend 
four or five days in the advanced camp by turns to bo trained in the practice 
of mountaineering while the rest supplied this camp from our base. 



CHAPTER XIII 
THE NORTHERN APPROACH— cowfimet^ 

The reader will gather from these notes some idea of 
the whole nature of our problem and the subjects of our most 
anxious thoughts. The camp estabUshed on June 25 lasted 
us until July 8. Meanwhile the idea was growing, the vision 
of Everest as a structural whole, and of the glaciers and 
lower summits to North and West. This idea resembled 
the beginning of an artist's painting, a mere rough design at 
the start, but growing by steps of clearer dej&nition in one 
part and another towards the precise completion of a whole. 
For us the mountain parts defined themselves in the mind 
as the result of various expeditions. We set out to gain a 
point of view with particular questions to be answered; 
partial answers and a new point of view stimulated more 
curiosity, other questions, and again the necessity to reach 
a particular place whence we imagined they might best 
be answered. And at the same time another aim had to 
be kept in mind. The coolies, though mountain-men, 
were not mountaineers. They had to be trained in the 
craft of mountaineering, in treading safely on snow or ice 
in dangerous places, in climbing easy rocks and most 
particularly in the use of rope and ice-axe — and this not merely 
for our foremost needs, but to ensure that, whenever we 
were able to launch an assault upon Mount Everest, and all 
would be put to the most exhausting test, they should have 
that reserve strength of a practised balance and ordered 
method on which security must ultimately depend. 

On July 1 I set out with five coolies to reach the head of 
the great cwm under the North face of Mount Everest. 
The snow on the upper glacier was soft and made very 

203 



204 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

heavy going. Bad weather came up and in a race agaiast 
the clouds we were beaten and failed to find out what 
happened to the glacier at its Western head under the 
North-west arete. My view of the col lying between Everest 
and the North Peak (Changtse) — the North Col as we now 
began to call it, or in Tibetan Chang La — ^was also unsatis- 
factory ; but I saw enough to make out a broken glacier 
running up eastwards towards the gap with steep and 
uninvittag snow slopes under the pass. I was now sure 
that before attempting to reach this col from the Rongbuk 
Glacier, if ever we determined to reach it, we should have 
to reconnoitre the other side and if possible find a more 
hopeful alternative ; moreover, from a nearer inspection 
of the slopes below the North-west arete I was convinced 
that they could be chosen for an attack only as a last resort ; 
if anything were to be attempted here, we must find a better 
way up from the East. 

I had vaguely hoped to bring the party home sufficiently 
fresh to cHmb again on the following day. But the fatigue 
of going in deep snow for three hours up the glacier, though 
we had been no higher than 19,100 feet, had been too great, 
and agaia we had noticed only a shght rehef in coming down ; 
it was a tired party that dragged back over the glacier 
crossing and into camp at 6.15 p.m., thirteen hours after 
starting. 

July 3 was devoted to an expedition designed chiefly 
to take eooHes on to steeper ground and at the same time 
to explore the small glacier which we had observed above 
us on the first day to the North-west ; by following up the 
terrace from our present camp we could now come to the 
snout of it in half an hour or less. After workuig up the 
glacier we made for a snow col between two high peaks. 
On reaching a bergschrund we found above its upper lip 
hard ice, which continued no doubt to the ridge. While 
BuUock looked after the party below I cut a staircase 
slanting up to a small island of rock 100 feet away ; from 
that sec\irity I began to bring the party up. We had now 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 205 

the interesting experience of seeing our coolies for the first 
time on real hard ice ; it was not a convincing spectacle, 
as they made their way up with the ungainly movements 
of beginners ; and though the last man never left the secure 
anchorage of the bergschrund, the proportion of two Sahibs 
to five coohes seemed lamentably weak, and when one man 
slipped from the steep steps at an awkward corner, though 
Bullock was able to hold him, it was clearly time to retire. 
But the descent was a better performance ; the coolies were 
apt pupils, and we felt that with practice on the glacier 
the best of them should become safe mountaineers. And 
on this day we had reached a height of 21,000 feet * from 
our camp at 17,500 feet. I had the great satisfaction of 
observing that one could cut steps quite happily at this 
altitude. The peak lying to the North of the col, which had 
been our objective on this day, attracted our attention by 
its position ; we thought it should have a commanding view 
over all this complicated country, and after a day in camp 
very pleasantly spent in receiving a visit from Colonel 
Howard-Bury and Dr. Heron, set out on July 5 determined 
to reach its summit. The start was made at 4.15 a.m. in 
the first light, an hour earher than usual ; we proceeded 
up the stone shoots immediately above our camp and after 
a halt for photography at the glorious moment of sunrise 
had made 2,500 feet and reached the high shoulder above 
us at 7 a.m. This place was connected with our peak 
by a snowy col which had now to be reached by a long 
traverse over a South-facing slope. Though the angle 
was not steep very httle snow was lying here, and where the 
, ice was peeping through it was occasionally necessary to 
cut steps. I felt it was a satisfactory performance to reach 
the col at 9.30 a.m. ; the cooKes had come well, though one 
of them was burdened with the quarter-plate camera ; but 
evidently their efforts had already tired them. Ahead of 

* Calculated from the readings of two aneroids, allowing a correction 
for the height of the camp as established later by Major Wheeler. 



206 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

us was a long, curving snow arete, slightly corniced and 
leading ultimately to a rocky shoulder. We thought that 
once this shoulder was gained the summit would be within 
our reach. Shortly after we went on two coolies dropped 
out, and by 11.30 a.m. the rest had given up the struggle. 
It was fortunate that they feU out here and not later, for 
they were able to make their way down in our tracks and 
regain the col below in safety. The angle steepened as we 
went on very slowly now, but still steadily enough, until 
we reached the rocks, a fraU slatey structure with short 
perpendictdar pitches. From the shoulder onwards my 
memories are dim. I have the impression of a summit 
continually receding from the position imagined by sanguine 
hopes and of a task growing constantly more severe, of 
steeper sides, of steps to be cut, of a dwindling pace, more 
frequent little halts standing where we were, and of 
breathing quicker but no less deep and always conscious ; 
the respiratory engine had to be kept running as the 
indispensable source of energy, and ever as we went on more 
work was required of it. At last we found ourselves 
without an alternative under an icy wall ; but the ice was 
a delusion ; in the soft flaky substance smothering rocks 
behind it we had strength left to cut a way up to the crest 
again, and after a few more steps were on the summit 
itself. 

It was now 2.45 p.m. The aneroid used by BuUock, 
which, after comparison with one of Howard-Bury's was 
supposed to read low, registered 23,050 feet,* and we puffed 
out our chests as we examined it, computing that we had 
risen from our camp over 5,500 feet. The views both 
earher in the day and at this moment were of the highest 
interest. To the East we had confirmed our impression of 
the North Peak as having a high ridge stretchmg eastwards 
and forming the side of whatever vaUey connected with 

* The survey established the height of this peak as 22,520 feet, and 
our subsequent experience suggests that aneroid barometers habitually 
read too high when approaching the upper limit of their record. 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 207 

the Arun River in this direction ; the upper parts of Everest's 
North face had been clearly visible for a long time, and 
we could now be certain that they lay back at no impossibly 
steep angle, more particularly above the North col and up 
to the North-east shoulder. All we had seen immediately 
to the West of the mountain had been of the greatest interest, 
and had suggested the idea that the crinlded summit there 
might be connected not directly with Mount Everest 
itself, but only by way of the South peak. And finally we 
now saw the connections of all that lay around us with 
the two great triangulated peaks away to the West, Gyachung 
Kang, 25,990 and Cho-Uyo, 26,870 feet. While complaining 
of the clouds which had come up as usual during the morning 
to spoil our view we were not dissatisfied with the expansion 
of our knowledge and we were elated besides to be where 
we were. But our situation was far from perfectly secure. 
The ascent had come very near to exhausting our strength ; 
for my part I felt distinctly mountain-sick ; we might 
reflect that we should not be obliged to cut more steps, but 
we should have to proceed downwards with perfect accuracy 
of balance and a long halt was desirable. However, the 
clouds were now gathering about us, dark thunder-clouds 
come up from the North and threatening ; it was clear we 
must not wait ; after fifteen minutes on the summit we 
started down at three o'clock. Fortune favoured us. The 
wind was no more than a breeze ; a few flakes of snow were 
unnoticed in our flight ; the temperature was mild ; the 
storm's malice was somehow dissipated with no harm done. 
We rejoined the coolies before five o'clock and were back 
in our camp at 7.15 p.m., happy to have avoided a descent 
in the dark. 

Our next plan, based on our experience of this long 
mountain ridge, was to practise the coolies in the use of 
crampons on hard snow and ice. But snow fell heavily 
on the night of the 6th ; we deferred our project. It was 
the beginning of worse weather ; the monsoon was breaking 
in earnest. And though crampons afterwards came up 



208 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

to our camps wherever we went they were not destined to 
help us, and in the event were never used. 

On July 8 we moved up with a fresh party of seven coohes, 
taking only our Hghtest tents and no more than was necessary 
for three nights, in the hope that by two energetic expeditions 
we should reach the Western cwm which, we suspected, must 
exist on the far side of the North-west arete, and learn enough 
to found more elaborate plans for exploring this side of the 
mountain should they turn out to be necessary. Again 
we were fortunate in finding a good camping ground, better 
even than the first, for the floor of this shelf was grassy 
and soft, and as we were looking South across the West 
Rongbuk Glacier we had the sun late as well as early. But 
we were not completely happy. A Mummery tent may 
be weU enough in fair weather, though even then its low 
roof suggests a recumbent attitude ; it makes a poor dining- 
room, even for two men, and is a cold shelter from snow. 
Moreover, the cold and draught discouraged our Primus 
stove — but I leave to the imagination of those who have 
learned by experience the nausea that comes from the 
paraffin fumes and one's dirty hands and aU the mess that 
may be. It was chiefly a question of incompetence, no 
doubt, but there was no consolation in admitting that. In 
the morning, with the weather still very thick and the snow 
lying about us we saw the error of our ways. Is it not a 
first principle of mountaiaeering to be as comfortable as 
possible as long as one can ? And how long should we 
require for these operations in such weather ? It was clear 
that our Second Advanced Camp must be organised on a 
more permanent basis. On the 9th therefore I went down 
to the base and moved it up on the following day so as to 
be within reach of our present position by one long march. 
The new place greatly pleased me ; it was much more 
sheltered than the lower site and the tents were pitched on 
flat turf where a clear spring flowed out from the hillside 
and only a quarter of an hour below the end of the glacier. 
Meanwhile Bullock brought up the Whymper tents and 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 209 

more stores from the First Advanced Camp, whicli was now 
estabKshed as a half-way house with our big 80-foot tent 
standing in solemn grandeur to protect all that remained 
there. On July 10 I was back at the Second Advanced 
Camp and felt satisfied that the new arrangements, and 
particularly the presence of our cook, would give us a fair 
measure of comfort. 

But we were still unable to move next day. The snow- 
fall during the night was the heaviest we had yet seen and 
continued into the next day. Probably the coohes were 
not sorry for a rest after some hard work ; and we reckoned 
to make a long expedition so soon as the weather should 
clear. Towards evening on the 10th the clouds broke. 
Away to the South-west of us and up the glacier was the 
barrier range on the frontier of Nepal, terminated by one 
great mountain, Pumori, over 24,000 feet high. To the 
West Rongbuk Glacier they present the steepest slopes 
on which snow can lie ; the crest above these slopes is 
surprisingly narrow and the peaks which it joins are 
fantastically shaped. This group of mountains, always 
beautiful and often in the highest degree impressive, was 
now to figure for our eyes as the principal in that oft-repeated 
drama which seems always to be a first night, fresh and full 
of wonder whenever we are present to watch it. The clinging 
curtains were rent and swirled aside and closed again, hfted 
and lowered and flung wide at last ; sunhght broke through 
with sharp shadows and clean edges revealed — and we were 
there to witness the amazing spectacle. Below the terrible 
mountains one white smooth island rose from the quiet 
sea of ice and was bathed in the calm fuU light of the Western 
sun before the splendour failed. 

With hopes inspired by the clearing views of this lovely 
evening, we started at 5.30 a.m. on July 12 to foUow the 
glacier round to the South and perhaps enter the Western 
cwm. The glacier was a difficult problem. It looked easy 
enough to follow up the medial moraine to what we called 
the Island, a low mountain pushed out from the frontier 

M.E. P 



210 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

ridge into the great sea of ice. But the way on Southwards 
from there would have been a gamble with the chances of 
success against us. We decided to cross the glacier directly 
to the South with a certainty that once we had reached 
the moraine on the other side we should have a clear way 
before us. It was exhilarating to set out again under a 
clear sky, and we were dehghted to think that a large part 
of this task was accomphshed when the sun rose fuU of 
warmth and cheerfulness. The far side was cut ofi by a 
stream of white ice, so narrow here that we expected with 
a Kttle good fortune to get through it in perhaps half an 
hour. We entered it by a frozen stream leading into a 
bay with high white towers and ridges above us. A side 
door led through into a further bay which took us in the 
confidence of success almost through the maze. With 
some vigorous blows we cut our way up the final wall and 
then found ourselves on a crest overlooking the moraine 
with a sheer ice-precipice of about 100 feet below us. 

The only hope was to come down again and work round 
to the right. Some exciting climbing and much hard work 
brought us at length to the foot of the cliffs and on the right 
side. The performance had taken us two and a half hours 
and it was now nearly ten o'clock. Clouds had already 
come up to obscure the mountains, and from the point of view 
of a prolonged exploration the day was clearly lost. Our 
course now was to make the best of it and yet get back so 
early to camp that we could set forth again on the following 
day. We had the interest, after following the moraine to 
the corner where the glacier bends Southwards, of making 
our way into the middle of the ice and finding out how 
unpleasant it can be to walk on a glacier melted everywhere 
into Uttle valleys and ridges and covered with fresh snow. 
We got back at 3 p.m. 

On July 13, determined to make good, we started at 
4.15 a.m. With the knowledge gained on the previous 
day and the use of 250 feet of spare rope we were able to 
find our way through the ice pinnacles and reached the far 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 211 

moraine in less than an hour and a half ; and we had the 
further good fortune when we took to the snow to find it 
now in such good condition that we were able to walk on 
the surface without using our snow-shoes. As we proceeded 
up the slopes where the snow steepened the weather began 
to thicken and we halted at 8 a.m. in a thick mist with a 
nasty wind and some snow faUing. It was a cold halt. 
We were already somewhat disillusioned about our glacier, 
which seemed to be much more narrow than was to be 
expected if it were reaUy a high-road to the Western cwm, 
and as we went on with the wind blowing the snow into 
our faces so that nothing could be clearly distinguished we 
had the sense of a narrowing place and a perception of the 
even surface being broken up into large crevasses on one 
side and the other. At 9.30 we could go no further. For 
a few hundred yards we had been traversing a slope which 
rose above us on our left, and now coming out on to a httle 
spur we stood peering down through the mist and knew 
ourselves to be on the edge of a considerable precipice. Not 
a single feature of the landscape around us was even faintly 
visible in the cloud. For a time we stayed on with the 
dim hope of better things and then reluctantly retired, 
baffled and bewildered. 

Where had we been ? It was impossible to know ; but 
at least it was certain there was no clear way to the West 
side of Everest. We could only suppose that we had reached 
a col on the frontier of Nepal. 

A further disappointment awaited us when we reached 
camp at 1 p.m. I had made a simple plan to ensure our 
supply of gobar * and rations from the base camp. The 
suppHes had not come up and it was not the sort of weather 
to be without a fire for cooking. 

I shall now proceed to quote my diary : — 

July 14. — A day of rest, but with no republican 
demonstrations. Very late breakfast after some snow in 

* In the Eongbuk Valley there was no wood and our supply of yak dung 
had to come up from Chobuk, 



212 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

the night. Piquet after tiffin and again after dinner 
was very consohng. The little streams we found here on 
our arrival are drying up ; it seems that not much snow 
can have fallen higher. 

July 15. — Started 6 a.m. to explore the glacier to West 
and North-west. A very interesting view just short of the 
Island ; the South peak appearing. Fifty minutes there 
for photos ; then hurried on in the hope of seeing more 
higher up and at a greater distance. It is reaUy a dry glacier 
here but with snow frozen over the surface making many 
pitfalls. We had a good many wettings in cold water up 
to the knees. The clouds were just coming up as we halted 
on the medial moraine. I waited there in hope of better 
views, while Bullock took on the coolies. They put on 
snow-shoes for the first time and seemed to go very well 
in them. Ultimately I struggled across the glacier, bearing 
various burdens, to meet them as they came down on a 
parallel moraine. Snow-shoes seemed useful, but very 
awkward to leap in. Biillock went a long way up the glacier, 
rising very slightly towards the peak Cho-Uyo, 26,870 feet. 
Evidently there is a flat pass over into Nepal near this peak, 
but he did not quite reach it. 

The topographical mystery centres about the West 
Peak. Is there an arete connecting this with the great 
rock peak South of Everest or is it joined up with the col 
we reached the day before yesterday ? The shape of the 
West cwm and the question of its exit will be solved if we 
can answer these questions. Bullock and I are agreed 
that the glacier there has probably an exit on the Nepal 
side. It all remains extremely puzzhng. We saw the 
North col quite clearly to-day, and again the way up from 
there does not look difficult. 

A finer day and quite usefiil. Chitayn * started out with 
us and went back. He appears to be seedy, but has been 
quite hopeless as Sirdar down in the base camp and is without 

* A useful coolie with experience in the Indian Army. I had used him 
as second Sirdar. 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 213 

authority. It is a great handicap haviag no one to look 
after things down there. Chitayn is returning to Tingri 
to-morrow. I hope he will cheer up again. 

July 16. — I made an early start with two coohes at 
2.45 a.m. and followed the medial moraine to the Island. 
Reached the near summit at sunrise about 5.30. Difficult 
to imagine anything more exciting than the clear view of 
all peaks. Those near me to the South-west quickly bathed 
in sun and those to the South and East showing me their 
dark faces. To the left of our col of July 13 a beautiful 
sharp peak stood in front of the gap between Everest and 
the North Peak, Changtse. Over this col I saw the North- 
west buttress of Everest hiding the lower half of the West 
face which must be a tremendous precipice of rock. The 
last summit of the South Peak, Lhotse, was immediately 
behind the shoulder ; to the right (i.e. West) of it I saw a 
terrible arete stretching a long distance before it turned 
upwards in my direction and towards the West Peak. This 
moimtain dropped very abruptly to the North, indicating 
a big gap on the far side of our col. There was the mysterious 
cwm lying in cold shadow long after the sun warmed me ! 
But I now half understand it. The col under the North-west 
buttress at the head of the Rongbuk Glacier is one entrance, 
and our col of July 13, with how big a drop one knows not, 
another. 

I stayed till 7 a.m. taking photos, a dozen plates exposed 
in all. The sky was heavy and a band of cloud had come 
across Everest before I left. 

Back to breakfast towards 9 a.m. A pleasant morning 
coUecting flowers, not a great variety but some delicious 
honey scents and an occasional cheerful blue poppy. 

July 17. — ^More trouble with our arrangements. The 
Sirdar has muddled the rations and the day is wasted. 
However, the weather is bad, constant snow showers from 
1 to 8 p.m., so that I am somewhat reconciled to this reverse. 

July 18. — Yesterday's plan carried out — ^to move up a 
camp with Hght tents and make a big push over into the 



214 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

West cwm ; eight coolies to carry the loads. But the loads 
have been too heavy. What can be cut out next time ? 
I cannot see many unnecessary articles. Heavy snow 
showers fell as we came up and we had rather a cheerless 
encampment, but with much heaving of stones made good 
places for the tents. A glorious night before we turned in. 
Dark masses of cloud were gathered round the peak above 
us ; below, the glacier was clear and many splendid mountains 
were half visible. The whole scene was beautifully Ut by 
a bright moon. 

July 19. — Started 3 a.m. ; still some cloud, particularly 
to the West. The moon just showed over the mountains 
in that direction which cast their strange black shadows on 
the snowfield. One amazing black tooth was standing up 
against the moorJight. No luck on the glacier and we had 
to put on snow-shoes at once. An exciting walk. I so 
much feared the cloud would spoil aU. It was just hght 
enough to get on without lanterns after the moon went 
down. At dawn almost everything was covered, but not 
by heavy clouds. Like guilty creatures of darkness surprised 
by the light they went scattering away as we came up and 
the whole scene opened out. The North ridge of Everest 
was clear and bright even before sunrise. We reached the 
col at 5 a.m., a fantastically beautiful scene ; and we looked 
across into the West cwm at last, terribly cold and forbidding 
under the shadow of Everest. It was nearly an hour after 
sunrise before the sun hit the West Peak. 

But another disappointment — it is a big drop about 
1,500 feet down to the glacier, and a hopeless precipice. I 
was hoping to get away to the left and traverse into the 
cwm ; that too quite hopeless. However, we have seen 
this Western glacier and are not sorry we have not to go up 
it. It is terribly steep and broken. In any case work on 
this side could only be carried out from a base in Nepal, 
so we have done with the Western side. It was not a very 
likely chance that the gap between Everest and the South 
Peak could be reached from the West. From what we have 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 215 

seen now I do not much, fancy it would be possible, even 
could one get up the glacier. 

We saw a lovely group of mountains away to the South 
in Nepal. I wonder what they are and if anything is known 
about them. It is a big world ! 



With this expedition on July 19 our reconnaissance of 
these parts had ended. We proceeded at once to move 
down our belongings ; on July 20 aU tents and stores were 
brought down to the base camp and we had said good-bye 
to the West Rongbuk Glacier. 

So far as we were concerned with finding a way up the 
mountain, little enough had been accomplished ; and yet 
our growing view of the mountain had been steadily leading 
to one conviction. If ever the mountain were to be climbed, 
the way would not lie along the whole length of any one 
of its colossal ridges. Progress could only be made along 
comparatively easy ground, and anything like a prolonged 
sharp crest or a series of towers would inevitably bar the 
way simply by the time which would be required to overcome 
such obstacles. But the North arete coming down to the 
gap between Everest and the North Peak, Changtse, is not 
of this character. From the horizontal structure of the 
mountain there is no excrescence of rock pinnacles in this 
part and the steep walls of rock which run across the North 
face are merged with it before they reach this part, which 
is comparatively smooth and continuous, a bluntly rounded 
edge. We had stUl to see other parts of the mountain, 
but already it seemed unlikely that we would find more 
favourable ground than this. The great question before 
us now was to be one of access. Could the North col be 
reached from the East and how could we attain this point ? 

At the very moment when we reached the base camp 
I received a note from Colonel Howard- Bury telling us that 
his departure from Tingri was fixed for July 23 and that he 
would be sleeping at Chobuk in the vaUey below us two 



216 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

days later on his way to Kiiarta. It was now an obvious 
plan to synchronise our movements with his. 

Besides the branch which we had aheady explored the 
Rongbuk Glacier has yet another which joins the main 
stream from the East about 10 miles from Everest. It had 
always excited our curiosity, and I now proposed to explore 
it in the initial stages of a journey across the unknown ridges 
and vaUeys which separated us from IQiarta. I calculated 
that we should want eight days' provisions, and that we 
should just have time to organise a camp in advance and 
start on the 25th with a selected party, sending down the 
rest to join Howard- Bury. And it was an integral part 
of the scheme that on one of the intervening days I should 
ascend a spur to the North of the glacier where we proposed 
to march in order to obtain a better idea of this country to 
the East. But we were now in the thickest of the monsoon 
weather ; the 21st and 22nd were both wet days and we 
woke on the 23rd to find snow all around us nearly a foot 
deep ; it had come down as low as 16,000 feet. It was 
hardly the weather to cut ourselves adrift and wander among 
the uncharted spurs of Everest, and we thought of delaying 
our start. Further it transpired that our organisation was 
not running smoothly — ^it never did run smoothly so long 
as we employed, as an indispensable Sirdar, a whey-faced 
treacherous knave whose sly and calculated villainy too 
often, before it was discovered, deprived our coohes of their 
food, and whose acquiescence in his own illimitable 
incompetence was only less disgusting than his infamous 
dupMcity. It was the hopeless sense that things were bound 
to go wrong if we trusted to this man's services — and we had 
no one else at that time through whom it was possible to 
order supphes from the natives — ^that turned the scale and 
spoilt the plan. Even so, in the natural course of events, 
I should have obtained my preliminary view. But on the 
night of the 22nd I received from Howard-Bury an extremely 
depressing piece of news, that aU my photos taken with the 
quarter-plate camera had failed — for the good reason that 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 



217 



the plates had been inserted back to front, a result of ignorance 
and misunderstanding. It was necessary as far as possible 
to repair this hideous error, and the next two days were 
spent in a photographic expedition. And so it came about 
that we saw no more untU a much later date of the East 
Rongbuk Glacier. Had our plan been carried out even in 
the smallest part by 

HighRocK 
Peak* 

on June Z7 



Observed^^ 
Snowfield^'' 



a cursory survey of 
what lay ahead, I 
should not now have 
to teU a story which 
is lamentably incom- 
plete ia one respect. 
For the East Rong- 
buk Glacier is one 
way, and the obvious 
way when you see 
it, to the North Col. 
It was discovered by 
Major Wheeler be- 
fore ever we saw it, 
in the course of his 
photographic sur- 
vey ; but neither he, 
nor Bullock, nor I 
have ever traversed 
its whole length. 

We should have 
attached more im- 
portance, no doubt, 

in the early stages of reconnaissance, to the East Rongbuk 
Glacier had we not been deceived in two ways by appearances. 
It had been an early impression left in my mind, at all events, 
by what we saw from ShOing, that a deep valley came down 
to the East as the R.G.S. map suggests, draining into the 
Arun and having the North-east arete of Everest as its 
right bank at the start. Further, the head of this vaUey 




^./■''Conjectured 
" Ridge 

Observed 
ValTey^ 



SUMMIT 



218 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

seemed to be, as one would expect, the gap between Everest 
and the first peak to the North which itself has also an 
Eastern arm to form the left bank of such a vaUey. The 
impression was confirmed not only by an excellent view 
from a hill above Ponglet (two days before Tingri and about 
35 miles North of Everest), but by aU nearer and more recent 
views of the mountains East of the Rongbuk Glacier. The 
idea that a glacier running parallel to the Rongbuk started 
from the slopes of Everest itself and came so far to turn 
Westward in the end hardly occurred to us at this time. 
From anything we had seen there was no place for such a 
glacier, and it was almost unimaginable that the great 
mountain range runnmg North from the North Col, Chang La, 
was in no part a true watershed. We saw the East Rongbuk 
Glacier stretching away to the East and perceived also a 
bay to the South. But how, if this bay were of any 
importance, could the glacier stream be so small ? We 
had found it too large to cross, it is true, late in the afternoon 
of our first expedition, but only just too large ; and again it 
seems now an unbehevable fact that so large an area of ice 
should give so small a volume of water. The glacier streams 
are remarkably small in all the country we explored, but 
this one far more surprisingly small than any other we saw. 
It was some measure of consolation in these circumstances 
to make use of a gleam of fine weather. When the bad news 
arrived on July 22 about the failure of my photographs 
we had ceased to hear the raindrops pattering on the tent, 
but could feel well enough when we pushed up the roof 
that snow was lying on the outer fly. It was a depressing 
evemng. I thought of the many wonderful occasions when 
I had caught the mountain as I thought just at the right 
moment, its moments of most lovely splendour — of aU those 
moments that would never return and of the record of all 
we had seen which neither ourselves nor perhaps anyone 
else would ever see again, I was not a cheerful companion. 
Moreover, from the back of my mind I was warned, even 
in the first despair of disappouatment, that I should have 



THE NORTHERN APPROACH 219 

to set out to repair the damage so far as I was able, and I 
hated the thought of this expedition. These were our 
days of rest after a month's high-Kving ; we were ofi with 
one adventure and on with another ; tents, stores, everything 
had been brought down to our base and we had said good-bye 
to the West Rongbuk Glacier. The clouds were still about 
us next morning and snow lay on the ground 9 inches deep. 
But by midday much of the snow had melted at our level 
and the clouds began to clear. At 2 p.m. we started up 
with the Mummery tents and stores for one night. I made 
my way with one cooUe to a spot some httle distance above 
our First Advanced Camp. As we pushed up the stormy 
hUlside the last clouds gathered about Everest, and lingering 
in the deep North cwm were dispersed and the great white- 
mantled mountains lay all clear in the Hght of a glorious 
evening. Before we raced down to join BuUock my first 
dozen plates had been duly exposed ; whatever the balance 
of hopes and fears for a fine morning to-morrow something 
had been done already to make good. 

My ultimate destination was the Island which I had 
found before to command some of the most splendid and 
most instructive views. I was close up under the slopes 
of this Httle mountain before sunrise next morning. It 
has rarely been my lot to experience in the course of a few 
hours so much variety of expectation, of disappointment 
and of hope deferred, before the issue is decided. A paU 
of cloud lying hke a blanket above the glacier was no good 
omen after the clear weather ; as the sun got up a faint 
gleam on the ice encoviraged me to go on ; presently the 
grey clouds began to move and spread in all directions until 
I was enveloped and saw nothing. Suddenly the frontier 
crest came out and its highest peak towering fantastically 
above me ; I turned about and saw to the West and North- 
west the wide glacier in the sun — beyond it Gyachung Kang 
and Cho-Uyo, 26,870 to 25,990 feet : but Everest remained 
hidden, obscured by an impenetrable cloud. I watched 
the changing shadows on the white snow and gazed helplessly 



220 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

into the grey mass coBtinually rolled up from Nepal into 
the deep hollow beyond the glacier head. But a breeze 
came up from the East ; the curtain was quietly withdrawn ; 
Everest and the South Peak stood up against the clear blue 
sky. The camera was ready and I was satisfied. A few 
minutes later the great cloud rolled back and I saw no more. 

Meanwhile Bullock had not been idle. He paid a visit 
to the North cwm, more successful than mine in July, for 
he reached the pass leading over into Nepal under the North- 
west arete and had perfectly clear views of Chang La, of 
which he brought back some valuable photos. But perhaps 
an even greater satisfaction than reckomng the results of 
what we both felt was a successful day was ours, when we 
Mstened in our tents that evening at the base camp to the 
growhng of thunder and reflected that the fair interval 
already ended had been caught and turned to good account. 

In snow and sleet and wind next morning, July 25, our 
tents were struck. We turned our backs on the Rongbuk 
Glacier and hastened along the path to Chobuk. The valley 
was somehow changed as we came down, and more agreeable 
to the eye. Presently I discovered the reason. The grass 
had grown on the hillside since we went up. We were 
coining down to summer green. 



CHAPTER XIV 
THE EASTERN APPROACH 

The new base at Kharta estabKshed by Colonel Howard- 
Bviry at the end of July was well suited to meet the needs 
of cHmbers, and no less agreeable, I believe, to all members 
of the Expedition. At the moderate elevation of 12,300 feet 
and in an almost ideal climate, where the air was always 
warm but never hot or stuffy, where the sun shone brightly 
but never fiercely, and clouds floated about the hUls and 
brought moisture from the South, but never too much rain, 
here the body could find a delicious change when tired of 
the discipline of high-Hving, and in a place so accessible 
to traders from Nepal could easily be fed with fresh food. 
But perhaps after life in the Rongbuk Valley, with hardly 
a green thing to look at and too much of the endless unfriendly 
stone-shoots and the ugly waste of glaciers, and even after 
visions of sublime snow-beauty, a change was more needed 
for the mind. It was a deHght to be again in a land of 
flowery meadows and trees and crops ; to look into the deep 
green gorge only a mile away where the Aran goes down 
into Nepal was to be reminded of a rich vegetation and 
teeming life, a contrast full of pleasure with Nature's 
niggardliness in arid, wind-swept Tibet ; and the forgotten 
rustle of wind in the wfllows came back as a soothing sound 
full of grateful memories, banishing the least thought of 
disagreeable things. 

The Kharta base, besides, was convenient for our recon- 
naissance. Below us a broad glacier stream joined the 
Arun above the gorge ; it was the first met with since we 
had left the Rongbuk stream ; it came down from the West 
and therefore, presumably, from Everest. To follow it 



222 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

up was an obvious plan as the next stage in our activities. 
After four clear days for idleness and reorganisation at 
Kharta we set forth again on August 2 with this object. 
The vaUey of oiu- glacier stream would lead us, we supposed, 
to the mountain ; in two days, perhaps, we should see 
Chang La ahead of us. A local headman provided by the 
Jongpen and entrusted with the task of leading us to 
Chomolungma would show us where it might be necessary 
to cross the stream and, in case the valley forked, would 
ensure us against a bad mistake. 

The start on this day was not propitious. We had 
enjoyed the sheltered ease at Kharta ; the coolies were 
dilatory and unwilling ; the distribution of loads was 
muddled ; there was much discontent about rations, and 
our Sirdar was no longer trusted by the men. At a village 
where we stopped to buy tsampa some 3 miles up the vaUey 
I witnessed a curious scene. As the tsampa was sold it 
had to be measured. The Sirdar on his knees before a large 
pile of finely ground flour was ladling it into a bag with a 
disused Quaker Oats tin. Each measure-full was counted 
by aU the cooKes standing round in a circle ; they were 
making sure of having their full ration. Nor was this aU ; 
they wanted to see as part of their suppHes, not only tsampa 
and rice, but tea, sugar, butter, cooking fat and meat on 
the Army scale. This was a new demand altogether beyond 
the bargain made with them. The point, of course, had 
to be clearly made, that for their so-called luxmies I must 
be trusted to do my best with the surplus money (100 tankas 
or thereabouts) remaining over from their allowances after 
bujdng the flour and rice. These luxury supphes were 
always somewhat of a difficulty ; the cooHes had been very 
short of such things on the Northern side — we had no doubt 
that some of the ration money had found its way into the 
Sirdar's pockets. It would be possible, we hoped, to prevent 
this happening again. But even so the matter was not 
simple. Wliat the cooKes wanted was not always to be 
bought, or at the local price it was too expensive. On this 




Pethang-tse. 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 223 

occasion a bountiful supply of chillies solved our difficulty. 
After too many words, and not all in the best temper, 
the sight of so many of the red, bright, attractive chillies 
prevailed ; at length my orders were obeyed ; the coolies 
took up their loads and we started off again. 

With so much dissatisfaction in the air it was necessary 
for Bullock and me to drive rather than lead the party. 
In a vaUey where there are many individual farms and 
little villages, the coolies' path is well beset with pitfalls 
and with gin. Without discipline the Sahib might easily 
find himself at the end of a day's march with perhaps only 
half his loads. It was a slow march this day ; we had barely 
accompHshed 8 miles, when Bullock and I with the hindmost 
came round a shoulder on the right bank about 4 p.m. and 
found the tents pitched on a grassy shelf and looking up a 
valley where a stream came in from our left. The Tibetan 
headman and his Tibetan coolies who were carrying some of 
our loads had evidently no intention of going further, and 
after some argument I was content to make the stipulation 
that if the coolies (our own as well as the Tibetans) chose 
to encamp after half a day's march, they should do a 
double march next day. 

The prospect was far from satisfactory : we were at a 
vaUey junction of which we had heard tell, and the headman 
pointed the way to the left. Here indeed was a valley, 
but no glacier stream. It was a pleasant green nuUah covered 
with rhododendrons and juniper, but presented nothing 
that one may expect of an important valley. Moreover, 
so far as I could learn, there were no villages in this direction : 
I had counted on reaching one that night with the intention 
of buying provisions, more particularly goats and butter. 
Where were we going and what should we find ? The headman 
announced that it would take us five more days to reach 
Chomolungma : he was told that he must bring us there 
in two, and so the matter was left. 

If the coolies behaved badly on this first day, they 
certainly made up for it on the second. The bed of the 



224 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

little valley wMch we now followed, rose steeply ahead of 
us, and the path along the hill slopes on its left bank soon 
took us up beyond the rhododendrons. We came at last 
for a mid-day halt to the shores of a lake. It was the first 
I had seen in the neighbourhood of Everest ; a little blue 
lake, perhaps 600 yards long, set on a flat shelf up there 
among the clouds and rocks, a sympathetic place harbouring 
a wealth of little rock plants on its steep banks ; and as 
our present height by the aneroid was little less than 17,000 
feet, we were assiu-ed that on this Eastern side of Everest 
we should find Nature in a gentler mood. But we were 
not satisfied with our direction ; we were going too much 
to the South. Through the mists we had seen nothing to 
help us. Eor a few moments some crags had appeared to 
the left looming surprisingly big ; but that was our only 
peep, and it told us nothing. Perhaps from the pass ahead 
of us we should have better fortune. 

At the Langma La when we reached it we found ourselves 
to be well 4,000 feet above our camp of the previous night. 
We had followed a track, but not always a smooth one, 
and as we stayed in hopes of a clearing view, I began to 
wonder whether the Tibetan coohes would manage to arrive 
with their loads ; they were notably less strong than our 
Sherpas and yet had been burdened with the wet heavy 
tents. Meanwhile we saw nothing above our own height. 
We had hoped that once our col was crossed we should 
bear more directly Westward again ; but the Tibetan headman 
when he came up with good news of his cooHes, pointed 
our way across a deep vaUey below us, and the direction 
of his pointing was nearly due South. Everest, we imagined, 
must be nearly due West of Kharta, and our direction at 
the end of this second day by a rough dead reckoning would 
be something Uke South-west. We were more than ever 
mystified. Fortunately our difficulties with the coohes 
seemed to be ended. Two of our own men stayed at the 
pass to reheve the Tibetans of the tents and bring them 
quickly on. Grumblings had subsided in friendliness, and 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 225 

all marched splendidly on this day. They were undepressed 
with the gloomy circumstance of again encamping in the 
rain. 

In the Sahibs' tent that night there took place a long 
and fragmentary conversation with the headman, our Sirdar 
acting as interpreter. We gained one piece of information : 
there were two Chomolungmas. It was not difficult to 
guess that, if Everest were one, the other must be Makalu. 
We asked to be guided to the furthest Chomolungma. 

The morning of August 4 was not more favourable to 
our reconnaissance. We went down steeply to the valley 
bed, crossed a stream and a rickety bridge, and wound on 
through lovely meadows and much dwarf rhododendron 
till we came to the end of a glacier and mounted by its left 
bank. Towards mid-day the weather showed signs of clearing ; 
suddenly on our left across the glacier we saw gigantic 
precipices looming through the clouds. We guessed they 
must belong in some way to Makalu. We were told that 
this was the first Chomolungma, while the valley we were 
now following would lead us to the other. It was easy to 
conclude that one vaUey, this one, must come up on the 
North side of Makalu all the way to Everest. But we saw 
no more. In a few moments the grey clouds blowing swiftly 
up from below had enveloped us, rain began to faU heavily, 
and when eventually we came to broad meadows above 
the glaciers, where yaks were grazing and Tibetan tents 
were pitched, we were content to stop. At least we should 
have the advantage here of good butter and cream from 
this dairy farm. There was indeed no point in going farther ; 
we had no desire to run our heads against the East face 
of Everest ; we must now wait for a view. 

The weather signs were decidedly more hopeful as I 
looked out of our tent next morning, and we decided at 
once to spend the day in some sort of reconnaissance up 
the valley. Presently away at the head of it we saw the 
clouds breaking about the mountain-sides. Everest itself 
began to clear ; the great North-east arete came out, cutting 

M.E. 



226 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

the sky to the right ; and little by little the whole Eastern 
face was revealed to us. 

As I recall now our first impression of the amazing scenery 
aroimd us, I seem chiefly to remember the fresh surprise 
and vivid delight which, for aU we had seen before, seemed 
a new sensation. Even the map of the Kama Valley, now 
that we have it, may stir the imagination. Besides Everest 
itself the crest of the South Peak, 28,000 feet high, and 
its prodigious South-east shoulder overlook the Western 
end ; while Makalu, 12 miles from Everest, thrusts out 
Northwards a great arm and another peak to choke the 
exit ; so that whereas the frontier ridge from Everest to 
Makalu goes in a South-easterly direction, the Kangshung 
Glacier in the main vaUey runs nearly due East. In this 
spacious manner three of the five highest summits in the 
world overlook the Kama Valley. 

And we now saw a scene of magnificence and splendour 
even more remarkable than the facts suggest. Among 
all the mountains I have seen, and, if we may judge by 
photographs, aU that ever have been seen, Makalu is incom- 
parable for its spectacular and rugged grandeur. It was 
significant to us that the astonishing precipices rising above 
us on the far side of the glacier as we looked across from 
our camp, a terrific awe-inspiring sweep of snow-bound 
rocks, were the sides not so much of an individual moimtain, 
but rather of a gigantic bastion or outwork defending Makalu. 
At the broad head of the Kama Valley the two summits 
of Everest are enclosed between the North-east arete and 
the South-east arete bending round from the South Peak ; 
below them is a basin of tumbled ice weU marked by a 
number of moraines and receiving a series of tributaries 
pouring down between the buttresses which support the 
mountain faces in this immense cirque. Perhaps the 
astonishing charm and beauty here he in the comphcations 
half hidden behind a mask of apparent simpHcity, so that 
one's eye never tires of following up the fines of the great 
aretes, of following down the arms pushed out from their 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 227 

great shoulders, and of following along the broken edge 
of the hanging glacier covering the upper half of this Eastern 
face of Everest so as to determine at one point after another 
its relation with the buttresses below and with their abut- 
ments against the rocks which it covers. But for me the 
most magnificent and subUme in mountain scenery can 
be made loveHer by some more tender touch ; and that, too, 
is added here. When aU is said about Chomolungma, the 
Goddess Mother of the World, and about Chomo Uri, the 
Goddess of the Turquoise Mountain, I come back to the 
valley, the valley bed itself, the broad pastures, where our 
tents lay, where cattle grazed and where butter was made, 
the httle stream we followed up to the valley head, wandering 
along its weU-turfed banks under the high moraine, the 
few rare plants, saxifrages, gentians and primulas, so well 
watered there, and a soft, familiar blueness in the air which 
even here may charm us. Though I bow to the goddesses 
I cannot forget at their feet a gentler spirit than theirs, a 
little shy perhaps, but constant in the changing winds and 
variable moods of mountains and always friendly. 

The deviation from our intended line of approach involved 
by entering the Kama Valley was not one which we were 
likely to regret. In so far as our object was to follow up 
a glacier to the North Col we were now on the wrong side 
of a watershed. A spur of mountains continues Eastwards 
from the foot of Everest's North-east arete ; these were 
on our right as we looked up the Kama VaUey ; the glacier 
of our quest must lie on the far side of them. But the pursuit 
of this glacier was not our sole object. We had also to 
examine both the East face and North-east arete of our 
mountain and determine the possibilities of attack on this 
side, A plan was now made to satisfy us in aU ways. We 
chose as our objective a conspicuous snowy summit, Carpo-ri, 
on the watershed and apparently the second to the East 
from the foot of the North-east arete. Could we cKmb it 
we should not only see over into the valley North of us and 
up to Chang La itself, we hoped, but also examine, from 



228 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

the point most convenient for judging the steepness of its 
slopes, the whole of the Eastern side of Mount Everest. 

On August 6 the Whymper tents were taken up, and 
a camp was made under a moraine at about 17,500 feet, 
where a stream flows quietly through a flat space before 
plunging steeply down into the vaUey. In this sheltered 
spot we bid defiance to the usual snowstorm of the afternoon ; 
perhaps as night came on and snow was stUl faUing we 
were vaguely disquieted, but we refused to beUeve m anything 
worse than the heavens' passing spite, and before we put 
out our candles the weather cleared. We went out into 
the keen air ; it was a night of early moons. Mounting a 
little rise of stones and faintly crunching under our feet 
the granular atoms of fresh fallen snow we were aheady 
aware of some unusual loveliness in the moment and the 
scenes. We were not kept waiting for the supreme effects ; 
the curtain was withdrawn. Rising from the bright mists 
Mount Everest above us was immanent, vast, incalculable — 
no fleeting apparition of elusive dream-form : nothing could 
have been more set and permanent, stedfast Hke Keats' s 
star, " in lone splendour hung aloft the night," a watcher 
of aU the nights, diffusing, it seemed universally, an exalted 
radiance. 

It is the property of aU that is most subhme m mountain 
scenery to be uniquely splendid, or at least to seem so, and 
it is commonly the fate of the subhme in this sort very soon 
to be mixed with what is trivial. Not infrequently we had 
experience of wonderful moments ; it is always exciting 
to spend a night under the stars. And such a situation 
may be arranged quite comfortably ; lying with his head 
but just within the tent a man has but to stir in his sleep 
to see, at aU events, half the starry sky. Tlien perhaps 
thoughts come tumbling from the heavens and shp in at 
the tent-door ; his dozing is an ecstasy : untU, at length, 
the alarm-watch sounds ; and after ? . . . Mean con- 
siderations din it aU away, aU that dehght. On the morning 
of August 7 the trivial, with us, preponderated. Something 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 229 

more than the usual inertia reigned in our frozen camp 
at 2 a.m. The cook was feeling unwell ; the coolies prolonged 
their minutes of grace after the warning shout, dallied 
with the thought of meeting the cold air, procrastinated, 
drew the blankets more closely round them, and — snored 
once more. An expedition over the snow to the outlying 
tents by a haK-clad Sahib, who expects to enjoy at least 
the advantage of withdrawing himself at the last moment 
from the friendly down-bag, is calculated to disturb the 
recumbency of others ; and a kick-off in this manner to 
the day's work is at aU events exhilarating. The task of 
extricating our frozen belongings, where they lay and ought 
not to have lain, was performed with alacrity if not with 
zeal ; feet did not loiter over slippery boulders as we mounted 
the moraine, and in spite of the half-hour lost, or gained, 
we were well up by sunrise. Even before the first glimmer 
of dawn the snow-mantled, slumbering monsters around 
us had been somehow touched to life by a faint blue Hght 
showing their form and presence — a Kght that changed 
as the day grew to a pale yeUow on Everest and then to a 
bright blue-grey before it flamed aU golden as the sun hit 
the summit and the shadow crept perceptibly down the 
slope untH the whole mountain stood bare and splendid 
in the morning glory. With some premonition of what 
was in store for us we had already halted to enjoy the scene, 
and I was able to observe exactly how the various ridges 
and summits caught the sun. It was remarkable that whUe 
Everest was never, for a moment, pink, Makalu was tinged 
with the redder shades, and the colour of the sky in that 
direction was a livid Chinese blue red-flushed. Its bearing 
from us was about South-east by South, and its distance 
nearly twice that of Everest, which lay chiefly to the South- 
west. 

The first crux of the expedition before us would evidently 
be the ascent of a steep wall up to the conspicuous col lying 
East of our mountain. The least laborious way was offered 
by an outcrop of rocks. The obstacle looked decidedly 



230 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

formidable and the coolies had Httle or no experience of 
rock-climbing. But it proved a pleasure reminiscent of 
many good moments once again to be grasping firm granite 
and to be encouraging novices to tread deHcately by throwing 
down an occasional stone to remind them of the perils of 
clumsy movements. The coohes, as usual, were apt pupils, 
and after agreeable exertions and one gymnastic performance 
we aU reached the col at 9 a.m. with no bleeding scalps. 

We had already by this hour taken time to observe 
the great Eastern face of Mount Everest, and more particularly 
the lower edge of the hanging glacier ; it required but Httle 
further gazing to be convinced — to know that almost every- 
where the rocks below must be exposed to ice falling from 
this glacier ; that if, elsewhere, it might be possible to cHmb 
up, the performance would be too arduous, would take 
too much time and would lead to no convenient platform ; 
that, in short, other men, less wise, might attempt this 
way if they would, but, emphatically, it was not for us. 

Our interest was rather in the other direction. We had 
now gained the watershed. Below us on the far side was 
a glacier flowing East, and beyond it two important rock 
peaks, which we at once suspected must be two triangulated 
points each above 23,000 feet. Was this at last the vaUey 
observed so long ago from the hill above SMUng, more 
than 50 miles away, to point up towards the gap between 
Changtse and Everest ? As yet we could not say. The 
head of the glacier was out of sight behind the Northern 
slopes of our mountain. We must ascend further, probably 
to its summit, to satisfy our curiosity — to see, we hoped, 
Changtse and its relation to this glacier, and perhaps the 
Chang La of our quest. 

The task before us was not one which had suggested 
from a distant view any serious difficulties. The angle of 
sight from our breakfast-place on the col to the next white 
summit West of us was certainly not very steep. But no 
continuous ridge would lead us upwards. The East face 
in front of us and the South face to our left presented two 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 231 

bands of fortification, crowned each by a flat emplacement 
receding a considerable distance, before the final cone. We 
knew already that the snow's surface, despite a thin crust, 
could not hold us, and counted on snow-shoes to save labour 
at the gentler angles. But the escarpments in front of us 
were imposing. The first yielded to a frontal attack pushed 
home with a proper after-breakfast vigour. The second 
when we reached it was a more formidable obstacle. The 
steepness of the Eastern slope was undeniable and forbidding 
and the edge of its junction with the South side was defined 
by a cornice. On that side, however, lay the only hope. 

We had first to traverse a broad gully. The powdery 
snow lay deep ; we hesitated on the brink. Here, if any- 
where, the unmelted powdery substance was hkely to 
avalanche. Confidence was restored in suflfieient measure 
by contemplating an island of rock. Here lay a solution. 
By the aid of its sound anchorage the party was secured 
across the dangerous passage. With his rope adequately 
belayed by a cooHe, though the manner was hardly pro- 
fessional, the leader hewed at the cornice above his head, 
fixed a fist-and-axe hold in the crest and struggled over. 
Such performances are not accomplished at heights above 
20,000 feet without the feeling that something has been 
done. Appearances suggested the necessity of estabhshing 
the whole party firmly above the cornice before proceeding 
many steps upward, and the first man had the diversion 
of observing at his leisure the ungraceful attitudes and 
explosive grunts of men strong indeed, but unaccustomed 
to meet this kind of obstacle. But with the usual menace 
of clouds, which even now were fiUing the head of the Kama 
Valley, it was no season for delay ; and it was no place to 
be treated Hghtly. The angle was quite as steep as we 
liked ; on the slopes to our left again we should evidently 
be exposed to the danger of an avalanche. It was necessary 
to avoid treading on our frail cornice and no less important 
to keep near the edge. Here a foot of powdery snow masked 
a disintegrated substance of loose ice. Nothing less than 



232 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

a vigorous swinging blow had any other effect than to bury 
the pick and require a fourfold effort to pull it out again. 
Lucidly one or even two such blows usually sufficed to make 
a firm step. But 400 feet of such work seemed an ample 
quantity. If was a relief at length to reach level snow, to 
don our rackets again and to follow a cooHe bursting with 
energy now sent first to tread a path. At 12.15 p.m. we 
reached the far edge of this flat shoulder lying under the 
final slopes of our mountain and at the most 500 feet below 
the summit. 

No one without experience of the problem could guess 
how difficult it may be to sit down on a perfectly flat place 
with snow-shoes strapped to the feet. To squat is clearly 
impossible ; and if the feet are pushed out in front the 
projection behind the heel tends to tflt the body backwards 
so that the back is strained in the mere effort to sit without 
falling. The remedy of course is to take off the snow-shoes ; 
but the human mountaineer after exhausting efforts is too 
lazy for that at an elevation of 21,000 feet. He prefers not 
to sit ; he chooses to lie — ^in the one convenient posture 
under the circumstances — ^flat upon his back and with 
his toes and snow-shoes turned vertically upwards. On 
this occasion the majority of the party without more ado 
turned up their toes. 

The situation, however, was one of the greatest interest. 
We were still separated from Mount Everest by a spur 
at our own height turning Northwards from the foot of the 
North-east arete and by the bay enclosed between this and 
its continuation Eastward to which our mountain belonged. 
But the distance from the North-east arete was small enough 
and we were now looking almost directly up its amazing 
crest. If any doubts remained at this time as to that line 
of attack, they now received a coup de grace. Not only was 
the crest itself seen to be both sharp and steep, suggesting 
an almost infinite labour, but the slopes on either hand 
appeared in most places an impracticable alternative ; 
and leading up to the great rock towers of the North-east 



THE EASTEKN APPROACH 233 

shoulder, the final section, the point of a cruel sickle, appeared 
efiectuaUy to bar further progress should anyone have been 
content to spend a week or so on the lower parts. To discern 
so much required no prolonged study ; to the right (North) 
the country was more intricate. The summit of Changtse 
was eventually revealed, as the clouds cleared off, beyond, 
apparently a long way beyond, the crest of the spur in front 
of us. To the extreme right, looking past the final slopes 
of the white cone above us was a more elevated skyHne and 



23800 




DIAGRAM SHOWING THAT THE KHARTA GLACIER DOES NOT 
LEAD TO THE NOBTH OOL. 



below it the upper part of the glacier, the lower end of which 
we had seen earher in the day descending Eastward. But 
its extreme hmit was not quite visible. We had still to 
ask the question as to where exactly it lay. Could this 
glacier conceivably proceed in an almost level course up 
to Chang La, itself ? Or was it cut off much nearer to us 
by the high skyline which we saw beyond it ? Was it 
possible, as in the second case must be, that this sky- 
Hne was continuous with the East arete of Changtse, the 
whole forming the left bank of the glacier ? If no answer 
was absolutely certain, the probabfiity at least was aU on 



234 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

one side — on the wrong side alike for our present and our 
future plans. We could hardly doubt that the glacier-head 
lay not far away under Chang La, but here near at hand 
under another col ; beyond this must be the glacier of our 
quest, turning East, as presumably it must turn beyond 
the skyline we saw now, and beyond the rock peaks which 
we had observed to the North of us when first we reached the 
watershed. 

One more effort was now required so that we might see 
a Httle more. Chang La itself was stiU invisible. Might we 
not see it from the summit of our mountain ? And was 
it not in any case an attractive summit ? An examination 
of the various pairs of upturned toes where the prostrate 
forms were stiU grouped grotesquely in the snow was not 
encouraging. But the most vigorous of the coohes was 
with us, Nyima, a sturdy boy of eighteen, who from the very 
start of the Expedition had consistently displayed a willing 
spirit in every emergency. To my demand for volunteers 
he responded immediately, and soon persuaded a second 
coolie, Dasno, who had been going very strongly on this 
day, to accompany him. As the three of us started off 
the clouds suddenly boiled up from below and enveloped 
us completely. A few minutes brought us to the foot of 
the steepest slopes ; we took off our snow-shoes and crossed 
a bergschrund, wading up to our thighs. Dasno had already 
had enough and fell out. But the conical shape of our 
peak was just sufficiently irregular to offer a defined blunt 
edge where two surfaces intersected. Even here the snow 
was deep enough to be a formidable obstacle at that steep 
angle ; but the edge was safe from avalanches. As we 
struggled on I glanced repeatedly away to the left. Presently 
through a hole in the clouds aU was clear for a moment 
to the West ; again I saw Changtse, and now my eyes 
followed the line of its arete descending towards Everest 
until the col itself was visible over the spur in front of us. 
The view was httle enough ; the mere rim appeared ; the 
wall or the slopes below it, aU that I most wanted to see, 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 2S5 

remained hidden. We struggled on to the top, in all nearly 
an hour's work of the most exhausting kind. The reward 
was in the beauty of the spot, the faintly-defined edges of 
clean snow and the convex surfaces bent slightly back from 
the steepness on every side to form the most graceful summit 
I have seen. To the North-east we saw clearly for a minute 
down the glacier. The rest was cloud, a thin veU, but aU 
too much, inexorably hiding from us Changtse and Chang La. 

A disappointment ? Perhaps. But that sort of suffering 
cannot be prolonged in a mind sufficiently interested. 
Possibly it is never a genuine emotion ; rather an automatic 
reaction after too sanguine hopes. And such hopes had 
no part in our system. We counted on nothing. Days 
as we found them were not seldom of the disappointing 
kind ; this one had been of the best, remarkably clear and 
fine. If we were baffled that was no worse than we expected. 
To be bewildered was aU in the game. But our sensation 
was something beyond bewilderment. We felt ourselves 
to be foiled. We were unpleasantly stung by this slap in 
the face. We had indeed solved all doubts as to the East 
face and North-east arete, and had solved them quickly. 
But the way to Chang La, which had seemed almost within 
our grasp, had suddenly eluded us, and had escaped, how 
far we could not tell. Though its actual distance from 
our summit might be short, as indeed it must be, the glacier 
of our quest appeared now at the end of a receding vista ; 
and this was all our prospect. 

Our next plans were made on the descent. With the 
relaxation of physical effort the feeling of dazed fatigue 
wears off and a mind duly strung to activity may work well 
enough. The immediate object was to reach our tents 
not too late to send a coohe down to the base camp the same 
evening ; on the following morning a reinforcement of four 
men would enable us to carry down aU our loads with 
sufficient ease, and with no delay we should move the whole 
party along the next stage back towards Langma La — 
and thus save a day. The main idea was simple. It stiU 



236 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

seemed probable that the elusive glacier drained ultimately- 
Eastwards, in which case its waters must flow into the 
Kharta stream ; thither we had now to retrace our steps 
and foUow up the main valley as we had originally intended ; 
it might be necessary to investigate more valleys than one, 
but there sooner or later a way would be found. Only, 
time was short. At the earliest we could be back in the 
Kharta Valley on August 9. By August 20 I reckoned 
the preliminary reconnaissance should come to an end, if 
we were to have sufficient time before the beginning of 
September for rest and reorganisation at Kharta — and such 
was the core of our plan. 

These projects left out of account an entirely new factor. 
In the early stages of the reconnaissance I had taken careful 
note of the party's health. One or two of the cooHes had 
quickly fallen victims to the high altitudes ; but the rest 
seemed steadily to grow stronger. Nothing had so much 
surprised us as the rapid accHmatisation of the majority, 
and the good effects, so far as they appeared, of hving in 
high camps. Both Bullock and myself left the Rongbuk 
Valley feeling as fit as we could wish to feel. All qualms 
about our health had subsided. For my part I was a 
confirmed optimist, and never imagined for myseK the 
smallest deviation from my uniform standard of health 
and strength. On August 7, as we toiled over the neve in 
the afternoon, I felt for the first time a symptom of weariness 
beyond muscular fatigue and beyond the vague lassitude 
of mountain-sickness. By the time we reached the moraine 
I had a bad headache. In the tent at last I was tned and 
shivering and there spent a fevered night. The next morning 
broke with undeniable glory. A photograph of our yester- 
day's conquest must be obtained. I dragged myself and 
the quarter-plate camera a few steps up to the crest of the 
moraine — only to find that a further peregrination of perhaps 
300 yards would be necessary for my purpose : and 300 
yards was more than I could face. I was perforce content 
with less interesting exposures and retiirned to breakfast 



THE EASTEKN APPROACH 237 

with the dismal knowledge that for the moment at all 
events I was hors de combat. We learned a little later that 
Colonel Howard-Bury had arrived the night before in our 
base camp. It was easily decided to spend the day there 
with him — ^the day I had hoped to save ; after the long 
dragging march down the green way, which on the ascent 
had been so pleasant with butterflies and flowers, I was 
obHged to spend it in bed. 

Three days later, on August 11, our tents were pitched 
in a sheltered place well up the Kharta VaUey, at a height 
of about 16,500 feet. Two tributary streams had been 
passed by, the first coming in from the North as being clearly 
too small to be of consequence, and the second from the 
South, because wherever its source might be, it could not 
be far enough to the North. Ahead of us we had seen that 
the valley forked ; we must follow the larger stream and 
then no doubt we should come soon enough to the glacier 
of our quest and be able at last to determine whether it 
would serve us to approach Chang La. August 12, a day 
of necessary idleness after three long marches, was spent 
by the coolies in collecting fuel, of which we were delighted 
to observe a great abundance, rhododendron and gobar 
aU about us, and, only a short way down the valley, the 
best we could hope for, juniper. The last march had been 
too much for me, and again I was obhged to keep my bed 
with a sore throat and swollen glands. 

It seemed certain that the next two days must provide 
the chmax or antichmax of our whole reconnaissance. The 
mystery must surely now be penetrated and the most 
important discovery of all be made. A competition with 
my companion for the honour of being first was, I hope, as 
far from my thoughts as ever it had been. From the start 
Bullock and I had shared the whole campaign and worked 
and made our plans together, and neither for a moment had 
envied the other the monopoly of a particular adventure. 
Nevertheless, after aU that had passed, the experience of 
being left out at the finish would not be agreeable to me ; 



238 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

I confess that not to be in at the death after leading the 
hunt so long was a bitter expectation. But the hunt must 
not be stopped, and on the morning of August 13, from 
the ungrateful comfort of my sleeping-bag, I waved fareweU 
to Bullock. How many days would he be absent before he 
came to teU his story, and what sort of story would it be ? 
Would he know for certain that the way was found ? or how 
much longer would our doubts continue ? 

It was impossible to stay in bed with such thoughts, 
and by the middle of the morning I was sitting in the sun 
to write home my dismal tale. A hint from one of the 
coolies interrupted my meditations ; I looked round and 
now saw, to my great surprise and unfeigned dehght, the 
approaching figure of Major Morshead. I had long been 
hoping that he might be free to join us ; and he arrived at 
the due moment to cheer my present soKtude, to strengthen 
the party, and to help us when help was greatly needed. 
Moreover, he brought from WoUaston for my use a medical 
dope ; stimulated by the imusual act of drug-taking, or 
possibly by the drug itself, I began to entertain a hope for 
the morrow, a feeling incommunicably faint but distinguish- 
ably a hope. 

Meanwhile Bullock, though he had not started early, 
had got off soon enough in the morning to pitch his tents 
if all went weU some hours before dark, and in aU probability 
at least so far up as to be within view of the glacier snout. 
As the night was closing in a coohe was observed running 
down the last steep sandy slope to our camp. He brought 
a chit from Bullock : "I can see up the glacier ahead of 
me and it ends in another high pass. I shall get to the 
pass to-morrow morning if I can, and ought to see our glacier 
over it. But it looks, after all, as though the most unlikely 
solution is the right one and the glacier goes out into the 
Rongbuk VaUey." 

Into the Rongbuk Valley ! We had discussed the 
possibility. The glacier coming in there from the East 
remained unexplored. But even if we left out of account 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 239 

all that was suggested by the East arete of Changtse and 
other features of this country, there remained the unanswer- 
able difficulty about the stream, the little stream which we 
had but just failed to cross in the afternoon of our first 
expedition. How could so Little water drain so large an 
area of ice as must exist on this supposition ? 

In any case we were checked again. The mystery 
deepened. And though the interest might increase, the 
prospect of finding a way to Chang La, with the necessary 
margin of time before the end of the month, was stiU 
receding, and, whether or no the unexpected should turn out 
to be the truth, the present situation suggested the unpleasant 
compHcation of moving our base once more somewhere 
away to the North. 

On the following day with the gathering energy of 
returning health I set forth with Morshead : we walked 
in a leisurely fashion up the valley rejected by BuUock and 
had the surprising good fortune of a clear sky untU noon. 
I soon decided that we were looking up the glacier where 
we had looked down on the 7th, as BuUock too had decided 
on the previous day : at the head of it was a high snow col 
and beyond that the tip of Changtse, What lay between 
them ? If a combe existed there, as presumably it did, the 
bed of it must be high : there could hardly be room, I 
thought, for a very big drop on the far side of the col. 
Might not this, after all, be a sufficiently good approach, 
a more convenient way perhaps than to mount the glacier 
from its foot, wherever that might be ? The near col, so far 
as I could judge, should easily be reached from this side. 
Why not get to the col and find out what lay beyond it ? 
The time had come to abandon our object of finding the foot 
of a glacier in order to follow it up ; for we could more 
easUy come to the head of it and if necessary foUow it down. 

I was sanguine about this new plan, which seemed to 
have good prospects of success and might obviate the 
difficulties and inconvenience of shifting the base (possibly 
again to the Rongbuk side, which I had no desire to revisit) 



240 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

and, as I still felt far from fit, I was in some hopes now 
that two more days would bring us to the end of our present 
labours. Bullock very readily agreed to the proposal. 
He brought no positive information from the col which he 
had reached, though he inclined to the idea that the water 
crossed at Harlung on our journey to Kharta, a moderate 
stream, but perhaps too clear, might provide the solution 
of our problem. A fresh bone was now thrown into our 
stew. A letter arrived from Howard-Bury with an enclosure 
from Wheeler, a sketch map of what he had seen more 
particularly East of the Rongbuk Glacier, on which the 
Eastern branch, with its Western exit, was clearly marked 
where we now know it to be. It was, unfortunately, a very 
rough map, professedly nothnig more, and was notably 
wrong in some respects about which we had accurate know- 
ledge. We were not yet convinced that the head of the 
East Rongbuk Glacier was reaUy situated under the slopes 
of Everest, and not perhaps under the Eastern arm of 
Changtse. Still, we had some more pickings to digest. 
Our business was to reach the nearer pass, and I felt sure 
that once we had looked over it to the other side whatever 
doubts remained could be cleared up in subsequent dis- 
cussion with Wheeler. Meanwhile, I hoped, we should 
have discovered one way to Chang La, and a sufficiently 
good one. 

It took us in the sequel not two but four days to reach 
the pass which was ultimately known as Lhakpa La 
(Windy Gap). The story may serve as a fair illustration 
of the sort of difficulty with which we had to contend. It 
was arranged on the 15th that we should meet Bullock's 
cooHes at the divide in the vaUey ; they were bringing down 
his camp and we could all go on together : but our messenger 
succeeded in collecting only half their number and much 
delay was caused in waiting for the others. From here 
we followed the Western stream, a stony and rather fatiguing 
walk of two hours or so (miladen) up to the end of the 
glacier, and then followed a moraine shelf on its left bank, 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 241 

I hoped we should find an easy way round to the obvious 
camping place we had previously observed from the Carpo-ri. 
But the shelf ended abruptly on steep stony slopes, clouds 
obscured our view, and after our misfortunes in the morning 
we were now short of time, so that it was necessary to stay 
where we were for the night. A thick layer of mist was 
still lying along the vaUey when we woke, and we could see 
nothing, but were resolved, nevertheless, to reach the col 
if possible. We went up, for the best chance of a view, 
to the crest of the hill above us, and followed it to the summit 
(6.30 a.m.). The view was splendid, and I took some good 
photographs ; but the drop on the far side was more serious 
than our hopes had suggested. We tried to make the best 
of thmgs by contouring and eventually halted for breakfast 
on the edge of the glacier a long way North of the direct 
line at 8.45 a.m. Before we went on we were again enveloped 
in mist, and after stumbHng across the glacier in snow-shoes 
to the foot of an icefaU, we turned back at 11 a.m. By that 
time we were a tired party and could not have reached 
the col ; and even had we reached it, we should have seen 
nothing. Still we felt when we found our tents again that 
with aU we had seen the day had not been lost, and we 
determined, before renewing our attempt on Lhakpa La, 
to push on the camp. There was stiU time to send a message 
down to the Sirdar so as to get up more cooHes and supplies 
and move forward next day. From this higher camp we 
hoped that the col might be reached at an early hour, and 
in that case it would be possible for a party to cross it and 
descend the glacier on the other side. 

The first coohes who came up in the morning brought 
a message from the Sirdar to the effect that suppHes were 
short and he could send none up. The rations were 
calculated to last for another three days, but their distribu- 
tion had been muddled. However, enough was subsequently 
sent up to carry us over into the next day, though it was 
necessary of course to abandon our project of a more distant 
reconnaissance. Our camp was happily established in the 

M.E. R 



242 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

usual snowstorm. The weather, in fact, was not treating 
us kindly. Snow was falling in these days for about eight 
to ten hours on the average and we were reHeved at last to 
see a fine morning. 

On August 18, with the low moon near setting, the three 
of us with one coohe set forth on the most critical expedition 
of our whole reconnaissance. Failure on this day must 
involve us in a lamentable delay before the party could 
again be brought up for the attack ; at the earliest we 
should be able to renew the attempt four days later, and if 
in the end the way were not estabhshed here the whole 
prospect of the assault in September would be in jeopardy. 
We scaled the Kttle chff on to the glacier that morning 
with the fuU consciousness that one way or another it was 
an imperative necessity to reach the col. The first few 
steps on the glacier showed us what to expect ; we sank 
in to our knees. The remedy was, of course, to put on 
rackets — ^which indeed are no great encumbrance, but a 
growing burden on a long march and on steep slopes most 
difficult to manage. We wore them for the rest of the day 
whenever we were walking on snow. About dawn the Ught 
became difficult ; a thin floating mist confused the snow 
surfaces ; ascents and descents were equally indistiiaguishable, 
so that the errant foot might unexpectedly hit the slope 
too soon or equally plunge down with sudden violence to 
unexpected depths. Crevasses forced, or seemed to force, 
us away to the right and over to the rocks of the left bank. 
We were faced with one of those critical decisions which 
determine success or failure. It seemed best to chmb the 
rocks and avoid comphcations in the icefaU. There was 
an easy way through on our left which we afterwards used ; 
but perhaps we did weU ; ours was a certain way though 
long, and we had enough trudging that day ; the rocks, 
though covered with snow to a depth of several inches, were 
not difficult, and a long traverse brought us back to the 
glacier at about 8.30 a.m. 

Our greatest enemy as we went on was not, after all, the 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 243 

deep powdery snow. The racket sank slightly below the 
surface and carried a little snow each step as one lifted 
it ; the work was arduous for the first man. But at a slow 
pace it was possible to plod on without undue exhaustion. 
The heat was a different matter. In the glacier-furnace 
the thin mist became steam, it enveloped us with a chnging 
garment from which no escape was possible, and far from 
being protected by it from the sun's fierce heat, we seemed 
to be scorched all the more because of it. The atmosphere 
was enervating to the last degree ; to halt even for a few 
minutes was to be almost overwhelmed by inertia, so difficult 
it seemed, once the machinery had stopped and lost 
momentum, to heave it into motion again. And yet we 
must go on in one direction or the other or else succumb 
to sheer lassitude and overpowering drowsiness. The final 
slopes, about 700 feet at a fairly steep angle, undoubt- 
edly called for greater efforts than any hitherto required 
of us. 

The importance of breathing hard and deeply had 
impressed itself upon us agam and again. I had come to 
think of my own practice as a very definite and conscious 
performance adopted to suit the occasion. The principles 
were always the same — to time the breathing regularly 
to fit the step, and to use not merely the upper part of the 
lungs, but the full capacity of the breathing apparatus, 
expanding and contracting not the chest only, but also the 
diaphragm, and this not occasionally but with every breath 
whenever the body was required to work at high pressure. 
Probably no one who has not tried it woiild guess how difficult 
it is to acquire an unconscious habit of deep breathing. 
It was easy enough to set the machine going in the right 
fashion ; it was another task to keep it running. The 
moment attention to their performance was relaxed, the lungs 
too would begin to relax their efforts, and often I woke 
from some day-dream with a feeling of undue fatigue, to 
find the cause of my lassitude only in the lungs' laziness. The 
best chance of keeping them up to their work, I found, was 



244 THE RECONNAISSAI^CE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

to impose a rhythm primarily upon the lungs and swing 
the legs in time with it. 

The practice employed for walking uphill under normal 
conditions is exactly contrary, in that case the rhythm is 
consciously imposed on the legs and the rest of the body 
takes care of itself. 

During the various expeditions of our reconnaissance 
I came to employ two distmct methods of working the legs 
with the lungs. As soon as conscious breathing was necessary 
it was my custom dehberately to inhale on one step and 
exhale on the next. Later, at a higher elevation, or when 
the expenditure of muscular energy became more exhausting, 
I would both inhale and exhale for each step, in either case 
timing the first movement of lifting the leg to synchronise 
with the beginning, so to speak, of the breathing-stroke. 
On this occasion as we pushed oxu" way up towards Lhakpa 
La I adopted a variation of this second method, a third 
stage, pausing a minute or so for the most furious sort of 
breathing after a series of steps, forty or thirty or twenty, 
as the strength ebbed, in order to gain potential energy for 
the next spasm of hfting efforts. Never before had our lungs 
been tested quite so severely. It was well for us that these 
final slopes were no steeper. It was difficult and tiring enough 
as it was to prevent the rackets sHding, though without them 
we could not possibly have advanced in such snow. But 
happily the consequences of a slip were not hkely to be 
serious. We were able to struggle on without regarding 
dangers, half- dazed with the heat and the glare and with 
mere fatigue, occasionally encouraged by a ghmpse of the 
skyUne above us, a clean edge of snow where the angle set 
back to the pass, more often enveloped in the scorching 
mist which made with the snow a continuous whiteness, 
so that the smooth slope, even so near as where the foot 
must be placed next, was usually indistinguishable. We 
had proceeded a considerable distance and I was satisfied 
with our progress, when the leader broke the monotony ; 
he was seen to hesitate in the 9,ct of stepping up, to topple 



THE EASTEEN APPROACH 245 

over and fall headlong downwards. This time he had guessed 
wrong ; his foot had hit unexpectedly against the steepening 
slope. Somehow he had passed in extreme fatigue from the 
physical state of stable equilibrium ; he had become such a 
man as you may " knock down with a feather," and this 
httle misadventmre had upset his balance. Mere surprise 
gave him strength to stop his sHde. He raised himself, 
disgusted, to his feet again and after sundry gruntings the 
party went on. 

Some Uttle way further up Major Morshead, who was 
walking last in the party, with one brief exclamation to tell 
us what he intended, quietly untied the rope and remained 
where he was in his steps, unable to go further. 

At length we found oiu?selves on flatter ground ; the 
pass was still invisible, how far ahead of us we could not 
guess. Unexpectedly we came upon the brink of a crevasse. 
We worked round it, vaguely wondering whether after aU 
our pains we were to meet with many troubles of this sort. 
And then after a few more steps we were visibly on some 
edge of things ; we had reached the col itself. 

Some twenty minutes later, as we sat on the snow gazing 
most intently at aU that lay about us, Bullock and I were 
surprised by a shout. A moment later Major Morshead 
rejoined us, to the great rejoicing of all three. 

It was about 1.15 p.m. when the first two of us had 
reached Lhakpa La ; the clouds, which had been earher 
only a thin veil, rent occasionally to give us clear glimpses, 
had thickened perceptibly during the last hour, so that we 
had now no hope of a clear view. In a sense, despite our 
early start from a high camp, we were too late. Little was 
to be seen above our level. The slopes of Everest away on 
our left^ were visible only where they impinged upon the 
glacier. But we were not actually in cloud on the col. The 
South-facing rocks of Changtse presented their profile, steep 
and jagged, an imposing spectacle so far up as we could 
see ; between them and Everest we looked down on a broad 
bay, the smooth surface of which was only occasionally 



246 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

broken by large crevasses. The descent to it from where 
we were could also be seen weU enough, and we judged it 
perfectly simple and not much more than 800 feet.* The 
East ridge of Changtse had no existence for us ; we looked 
across at what presumably were the splayed-out slopes 
supporting it. Below them was a narrow glacier (it grew 
when we crossed it to broader dimensions), shaping its 
course somewhat to the West of North, joined after losing 
its white snow-covering by another and cleaner glacier 
coming steeply down from the left, then apparently bending 
with this confluent to the right, and finally lost to view. 
We could see no more ; the mountain sides, which must 
hem it in on the North, remained completely hidden, and 
for aU we had seen the exit of this glacier was still a 
mystery. 

Another great question remained unsolved. We had 
been able to make out the way across the head of the glacier 
towards the waU under Chang La ; and the way was easy 
enough. But the waU itself, in spite of some fleeting ghmpses 
and partial revelations, we had never reafly seen. We 
conjectured its height should be 500 feet or Httle more ; 
and it was probably steep. It had been impossible to found 
an opinion as to whether the col were accessible. Never- 
theless, I held an opinion, however flimsy the foundations. 
I had seen the rim of the col from both sides, and knew that 
above it on either hand were miserrated edges. When we 
added to whatever chances might be ofiered by the whole 
extent of the wall, which was considerable, the possibilities 
of finding a way to the col by the slopes of Everest to the 
South or by those of Changtse to the North, I felt we had 
enough in ovir favour. I was prepared, so to speak, to bet 
my bottom doUar that a way coifld be fomid, and was resolved 
that before we turned homewards tliis year we must get 
up from the East. When I thought of the 4,000 feet on 
the other side, the length combined with the difficulties, 
the distance that would necessarfly separate us there from 
* It turned out to be a full 1,200 feet. 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 247 

any convenient base and all the limitations in our strength, 
I could have no reasonable doubt that here to the East lay 
the best chance of success. 

It remained to determine by which of two possible routes 
we should reach the glacier-head between Lhakpa La and 
Chang La. Presuming that Wheeler was right we could 
use the old base at the foot of the Rongbuk Glacier which 
was only one stage, though a very long one, from Chobuk, 
and proceed simply enough by two rough marches and one 
which should be easier to a camp at the foot of the wall or 
possibly to the col itself. On the East we could use as an 
advanced base a place two easy marches from Kharta ; 
from there I reckoned one long day and two easy ones, 
provided the snow were hard, to Chang La. Against this 
route was the loss of height in crossing Lhakpa La ; and 
for it the convenience of a good encampment on stones at 
20,000 feet, better than anything we might expect to find 
at a similar elevation on the other side. So far the pros 
and cons, were evenly balanced. But there was one great 
and perhaps insuperable obstacle in working from the 
Rongbuk Valley. We had always found difficulties there 
in obtaining an adequate supply of fuel. There is no wood 
at Chobuk or for some distance below it. A few small 
bushes grow in a little patch of vegetation by the riverside 
an hour higher up. But it is a very niggardly supply, and 
when I thought of the larger scale of the preparations we 
should now have to make, it became clear that we should 
have to rely on gobar, which, besides being a more extravagant 
fuel in the sense that it gives less fire for a given weight 
than wood, is also difficult to get in the Rongbuk Valley, 
for little enough is to be found there, and the monastery 
at Choyhng is a large consumer. On the other hand, in 
the Kharta Valley we were in a land of plenty. Gobar and 
rhododendron were to be had within a stone's throw of our 
present advanced base camp, and a httle lower was an 
abundance of juniper. Food supplies also were better 
here ; fresh vegetables and eggs, luxuries never seen on 



248 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

the other side, could easily be obtained from Kharta, and 
even the sheep in this region could be praised at the expense 
of the Rongbuk breed, which was incomparably skinny; 
lurking in the thigh of one recently killed we had actually 
discovered a nugget of fat. 

And presuming Wheeler were wrong ? In any case we 
knew enough of the country to be sure that a valley further 
to the North would offer us Uttle better than the Rongbuk 
Valley, for it must be situated in the drier area unvisited 
by the monsoon currents from the Arun. The conclusion 
was drawn as we came down from Lhakpa La more swiftly 
than the reader of these arguments might suppose. We 
had now found a way to approach Chang La — not an ideal 
way, because it would involve a descent, and not one that 
could be used immediately ; but good enough for our pmrpose. 
If laden cooHes could not be brought to the Lhakpa at 
present over so much soft snow they might find the march 
to their likin g later ; for good snow at angles not too steep 
involves far less labour than rougher ground ; and might 
we not expect the snow to harden before long ? The whole 
plan of campaign had been foxmded upon the behef that 
September would be the best month for chmbing, and our 
greatest efforts, some sort of an assault upon the mountain, 
were timed to take place then. We must now proceed 
upon the assumption that what the wise men prophesied 
about the matter would come true ; and they promised a 
fine September. About the begimiing of the month the 
monsoon would come to an end ; then we should have a 
succession of bright, clear days to melt the snow and cold, 
starry nights to freeze it hard. At worst the calm speU 
would only be broken by a short anger. In September, 
perhaps a fortnight hence, on these same slopes where now 
we toiled we should find a soHd substance beneath our feet 
and an easy way. 

The abiding thought, therefore, after the first rush 
downwards on the steep slopes below the col contained a 
measure of soHd satisfaction. We had now brought to an 



THE EASTERN APPROACH 249 

end our preliminary reconnaissance. Ahead of us was a 
new phase in our operations, and one which should hold in 
store for us the finest adventure of all, the chmax of aU 
reconnoitring expeditions, that advance which was to bring 
us as near to the summit as our strength would take us. As 
we plodded on, retracing our steps, some httle satisfaction 
was highly acceptable. To the tired party even descent 
seemed laborious. We reached the edge of the glacier 
where we had come on to it at 5.30 p.m. But the march 
from there to our lower camp was both long and rough. 
Major Morshead, who had not been trained with Bullock 
and me to the pace of such expeditions, had kept up so far 
in the gamest fashion ; but he was now much exhausted. 
The day ended with a series of little spurts, balancing over 
the snow-sprinkled boulders along and along the vaUey, 
in the dim misty moonht scene, until at 2 o'clock in the 
morning we reached our lower camp, twenty-three hours 
after the early start. 

On August 20 we went down to Kharta for ten days' 
rest and reorganisation. The party was gathering there 
for the assault, in which all were to help to the best of their 
powers. Col. Howard-Bury and Mr. WoUaston were there ; 
Dr. Heron came in on the following day, and a httle later 
Major Wheeler. A conversation with this officer, who had 
been working in the Rongbuk Valley since BuUock and I 
had left it, was naturaUy of the highest interest, and he 
now confirmed what his sketch-map had suggested : that 
the glacier on to which we had looked down from Lhakpa 
La drained into the Rongbuk Valley. But this certain 
knowledge could have no bearing on our plans ; we remained 
content with the way we had found and troubled our heads 
no more for the present about the East Rongbuk Glacier. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE ASSAULT 

In the agreeable climate of Kharta we were sufficiently 
occupied with the results of photography and preparations 
for the future ; and there was time besides for unmixed 
idleness, which we knew how to appreciate. Our thoughts 
turned often to the weather. Local lore confirmed our 
expectations for September, and we looked each day for 
signs of a change. It was arranged, in hope if not in 
confidence, to move up on the first signs of improvement. 
Already before we came down to lOiarta our Advanced 
Base Camp had been moved up ; it was now situated at 
about 17,300 feet on a convenient grassy plateau and only 
a reasonable stage below our 20,000-foot camp, where some 
hght tents and stores had also been left. At these two camps 
we had, in fact, left everything which we should not absolutely 
require at Kharta, so that few mountaineering stores would 
have to be carried forward from the Base when we came 
up again. Our first task would be to supply the Advanced 
Base with food and fuel, and a start had aheady been made 
by collecting here a pile of wood, nominally thirty loads. 
Transport in any case was not likely to be a difficulty in 
the early stages. Local coolies could easUy be hired, and 
Howard-Bury was to foUow us up after a short interval 
with all available strength to help in every possible way. 

The first object which our plans must include was, of 
coiu'se, to reach Chang La ; by finding the way to this point 
we should estabhsh a line of attack and complete a stage 
of ovjc reconnaissance. Secondly we must aim at reaching 
the North-east Shoulder. In so far as it was an object of 
reconnaissance to determine whether it was possible to chmb 

250 



THE ASSAULT 251 

Mount Everest, our task could never be complete until we 
had actually climbed it ; but short of that it was important 
to have a view of the final stage, and could we reach the 
great shoulder of the arete we should at least be in a better 
position to estimate what lay between there and the summit. 
Finally we saw no reason to exclude the supreme object 
itself. It would involve no sacrifice of meaner ends ; the 
best would not interfere with the good. For if it should 
tiu-n out that the additional suppHes required for a longer 
campaign were more than our coolies could carry, we would 
simply drop them and aim less high. 

In organising the assault we had first to consider how 
our camps could be established, at Lhakpa La or perhaps 
better beyond it at a lower elevation, at Chang La, and 
finally as high as possible, somewhere under the shotdder, 
we thought, at about 26,500 feet. From the camp on 
Chang La we should have to carry up ten loads, each of 
15 lb., which would provide tents enough, and sleeping- 
sacks and food for a maximum of four Sahibs and four 
coolies ; sixteen coolies were allowed for this task ; twelve 
therefore would have to return on the day of their ascent 
and sleep at Chang La, and on the assumption that they 
would require an escort of Sahibs who must also sleep at 
this camp, four small tents must remain there, making six 
in aU to be carried up to this point. The lower end of the 
ladder must be so constructed as to support this weight at 
the top. It was comparatively a simple matter to provide 
the earher camps. The first above the advanced base — 
that at 20,000 feet — could be filled before we moved up to 
sleep there, the coolies returning on the same day whenever 
they carried up loads. And the same plan could be adopted 
for the second at Lhakpa La ; only one journey there, I 
calculated, would be required before we started in force 
from the 20,000-foot camp to go straight ahead without delay. 
The crux would he in the stage from Lhakpa La to Chang 
La. At the most we should have twenty-three coolies, 
sixteen who had been aU along with the cUmbing party, 



252 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

three whom Wheeler had partially trained, and four more 
Sherpas, the maximum number being determined by the 
supply of boots. But it would not be necessary to carry 
on all the loads from Lhakpa La ; and retmn journeys could 
be made from Chang La both by those who were not to stay 
there and by the twelve already mentioned who might 
fetch suppKes if necessary on the final day of the assault. 
This plan was never executed in its later stages, and we 
cannot know for certain whether it would have held good. 
But it may be conjectured, in view of our experience, that 
the weakest link would have broken ; either an extra day 
would have been spent between Lhakpa La and Chang La, 
or, if we had reached Chang La according to programme 
with the minimum of supplies, the cooHes would not have 
been brought to this point a second time and the climbiag 
party would have been cut oS from its reserves. And, 
granted the most favourable conditions for the attempt, 
in asking the coohes to carry loads of 30 lb. on two consecutive 
days at these high altitudes, we were probably expecting 
too much of them. It must be concluded, if this opinion 
is correct, that we had not enough coohes for what we 
intended. 

On the last day of August, Bullock and I were estabhshed 
once again at our Advanced Base. The weather had not 
yet cleared, though it was showing some signs of change. 
But it had been necessary to move up for the coolies' sake. 
At IQiarta, where they found little to amuse them and no 
work to employ their time, they had sought diversion with 
the aid of liquor and become discontented and Ul-afiected. 
They were badly in need of a routine, which at the Advanced 
Base was easily enough provided. Besides, I wanted to 
be ready, and it seemed not too soon to begin carrying loads 
up to the next camp. There was no occasion for hurry 
in the event. We were obhged to wait nearly three weeks, 
until September 19, before moving forward. The delay 
served no useful purpose, the work of supplying our present 
needs and providing for the future was sufficiently spread 



THE ASSAULT 253 

over the long tale of days, but interspersed with more rest 
and leisure than anyone required. 

In some respects life at the Advanced Base compared 
favourably with our experience at other camps. The place 
had a charm of its own. The short turf about us, the 
boulders and little streams reminded me of Welsh hillsides ; 
and these high pastures were often decorated by the briUiant 
blues of Gentiana ornata and by the most exquisite of 
saxifrages, which, with the yellow and ochre markings on the 
cream glaze of its tiny bowl, recalls the marginal ornament 
on some Persian page. Whenever the weather cleared 
for a few hours we saw down the valley a splendid peak in 
a scene of romantic beauty, and by walking up to a stony 
shoulder only 2,000 feet above us, we had amazing views of 
Everest and Makalu. And it was an advantage during 
these days of waiting to be a larger party, as we soon became. 

Bury and WoUaston, and also Raeburn whom we rejoiced 
to see again, had come up on the 6th, Morshead and Wheeler 
on the 11th, and for two nights Heron was of oiu- company. 
We made little excursions to keep ourselves fit, and on one 
occasion enjoyed some rock-climbing. But it amused nobody 
to watch the procession of clouds which precipitated sleet 
by day and snow by night, and our appetite for adventure 
could not be stimulated by making time pass in some 
endurable fashion and counting the unhopeful signs. 

Under these circumstances I became more than ever 
observant of the party's physical condition. I find a passage 
in one of my letters Avritten diu^ing this period of waiting 
in which I boast of finding myself " still able to go up about 
1,500 feet in an hour — ^not bad going at these altitudes "— 
a reassuring statement enough but for the one word " stiQ," 
which betrays all my anxiety. In fact there was too much 
cause to be anxious. Three of our strongest cooKes were 
iU. at this camp ; others seemed to be tired more easily than 
they should be. And what of the Sahibs ? At least it 
must be said that several of them were not looking their 
best. Bullock, though he never complained, seemed no 



254 THE RECONNAISSANCE OE THE MOUNTAIN 

longer to be the fit man he was at the end of July. And for my 
part I began to experience a certain lack of exuberance when 
going up hiU. I came to reahse that aU such efforts were unduly 
exhausting ; my reserve of strength had somehow diminished. 
The whole machine, in fact, was running down ; the days 
continued to pass with their cloud and rain and snow, always 
postponing our final effort to a later date and a colder season ; 
and with them our chances of success were slowly vanishing. 
When at last the weather cleared, it was evident that 
the fate of our enterprise would be decided by the sun's 
power to melt the snow. In a subsequent chapter I shall 
have more to say about the snow's melting ; it may suffice 
to remark here that, before we left the Advanced Base, I 
had good reason to expect that we should meet adverse 
conditions, and was resolved at the same time that nothing 
was to be gained by waiting. The coolies were lightly laden 
up to the First Advanced Camp and sufficiently unfatigued 
to proceed next day. On the 20th, therefore, leaving Bullock 
to accompany Wheeler, Morshead and I set forth to get 
fourteen loads up to Lhakpa La. We had one spare coohe 
who carried no load, and Sanglu, who was now our acting 
Sirdar, four of us in all, to break the trail for the loaded 
men. Snow-shoes were not carried because there were 
not enough to go round. Though our prospects of 
reaching a high point on Everest were already sufficiently 
dim, I intended to carry out the original plan until obhged 
by circumstances to modify it ; it might prove necessary 
to spend an extra day in reaching Chang La, and in that 
case we could perhaps afford to stop short of Lhakpa La 
and estabUsh our camp below its final slopes. But if the 
strain on this fiirst day was likely to be severe, I argued that 
the coolies could rest to-morrow, and that the second journey 
in frozen tracks would be easy enough. That we should 
be passing the night a few hxmdred feet higher (at 22,500 
feet) was a relatively unimportant consideration. The 
great matter was to put heart into the coolies ; it would 
be infinitely more encouraging to reach the crest with a 



THE ASSAULT 255 

sense of complete achievement, to see the clear prospect 
ahead and to proceed downwards on the other side. 

Our start at an early hour on the 20th was propitious 
enough. It was the same moonht glacier of our expedition 
a month before as we made good our approach to its surface. 
But the conditions were altered. For the first time since 
we had come to these mountains we experienced the wonderful 
delight of treading snow that is both crisp and soKd. We 
walked briskly over it, directly towards Mount Everest, 
with aU the hope such a performance might inspire. The 
night was exceedingly cold and there was no untoward 
delay. In less than an hour we were at the foot of the icef aU. 
We were determined on this occasion not to avoid it by the 
rocks of the left bank, but to find a quicker way through 
the tumbled ice. At first aU went well. A smooth-floored 
corridor took us helpfully upwards. And then, in the dim 
light, we were among the crevasses. To be seriously held 
up here might well be fatal to our object, and in the most 
exciting kind of mountaineering adventures we had the 
stimulus of this thought. We plunged into the maze and 
struggled for a little time, crossing frail bridges over fantastic 
depths and making steps up steep little walls, until it seemed 
we were in serious trouble. One leap proposed by the leader 
proved too much for some of the laden coohes and a good 
deal of pushing and pulling was required to bring them over 
the formidable gap. We had begun to waste time. Halted 
on a sharp Httle crest between two monstrous chasms Morshead 
and I discussed the situation, and thereafter gravely proceeded 
to reconnoitre the ground to our left. In ten minutes we 
came to another corridor Hke the first, which brought us 
out above the icefall. 

We were weU satisfied with our progress as we halted 
at sunrise, and it was a pleasant change to get our feet out 
of the snow and knock a Httle warmth into chilled toes. 
But our confidence had ebbed. Even as we entered the 
icefaU our feet had occasionally broken the crust ; as we 
came outof it we were stamping a trail. 



256 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

Dorji Gompa, our unladen coolie, and perhaps the 
strongest man of aU, took the lead when we went on, and 
plugged manfuUy upwards. But already the party was 
showing signs of fatigue. One cooUe, and then two others, 
fell out and could not be induced to come further, I sent 
Dorji Gompa back to bring on one of their loads. Morshead, 
Sanglu and I took turns ahead and soon came to the worst 
snow we had encountered anywhere. In it no firm steps 
could be stamped by the leaders to save the coolies behind, 
and each man in turn had to contend with the shifting 
substance of fine powder. The party straggled badly. It 
was necessary for some of us to press on and prove that 
the goal could be reached. Many of the men were obKged 
to halt at frequent intervals. But time was on our side. 
Gradually the party fought its way up the final slopes. As 
we approached the pass I looked back with Morshead over 
the little groups along our track and saw some distance 
below the last moving figure another lying huddled up on 
the snow. I soon learnt the meaning of this : it was Dorji 
Gompa who lay there. He had carried on not one load as 
I had asked him, but two, untU he had fallen there dazed 
and exhausted. 

'^At length eleven loads reached the pass and two more 
were only 800 feet lower. If we had not done aU we set 
out to do I was satisfied we had done enough. We had 
estabhshed tracks to Lhakpa La which should serve us well 
when they had frozen hard, and not too many loads remained 
below to be brought up two days later. 

We now obtained a clear view of Chang La ; it was 
possible to make more exact calculations, and it was evident 
we must modify our plans. We saw a wall of formidable 
dimensions, perhaps 1,000 feet high ; the surface was 
unpleasantly broken by insuperable bergschrunds and the 
general angle was undoubtedly steep. The slopes of Everest 
to the South were out of the question, and if it were possible 
to avoid a direct assault by the North side the way here 
would be long, difiicult and exceedingly laborious. The 



THE ASSAULT 257 

wall itself offered the best chance, and I was in good hopes 
we could get up. But it would not be work for untrained 
men, and to have on the rope a number of laden coolies, 
more or less mountain sick, conducted by so small a nucleus 
as three Sahibs, who would also presumably be feeling the 
effects of altitude, was a proposition not to be contemplated 
for a moment. We must have as strong a party as possible 
in the first place, simply to reach the col, and afterwards to 
bring up a camp, if we were able, as a separate operation. 
With this idea I selected the party. Wollaston felt that 
his place of duty was not with the van ; only Wheeler besides 
had sufficient mountaineering experience, and it was decided 
that he alone should accompany Bullock and myself on 
our first attempt to reach the col. Nevertheless, it seemed 
undesirable to abandon so early the hope that Bury and 
Morshead would be of use to us later on ; and WoUaston 
clearly must start with us from the 20,000-foot camp where 
all had gathered on the 20th. 

I had hoped we should have a full complement of coolies 
on the 22nd, but when morning came it was found that 
three, including two of the best men, were too ill to start. 
Consequently some of the loads were rather heavier than I 
intended. But all arrived safely at Lhakpa La before midday. 
Visited by malicious gusts from the North-west, the pass 
was cheerless and chiUy ; however, the rim afforded us 
some protection, and we decided to pitch our tents there 
rather than descend on the other side with the whole party, 
a move which I felt might complicate the return. I was 
not very happy about the prospects for the morrow. For 
my own part I had been excessively and unaccountably 
tired in coming up to the col ; I observed no great sparkle 
of energy or enthusiasm among my companions ; Sanglu 
was practically hors de combat ; some of the coolies had with 
difficulty been brought to the col and were more or less 
exhausted ; and many complaints of headache, even from 
the best of them, were a bad sign. 

There was no question of bustling off before dawn on 



258 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

the 23rd, but we rose early enough, as I supposed, to push 
on to Chang La if we were sufficiently strong. Morshead 
and I in a Mummery tent had slept well and I congratulated 
myself on an act of mutilation in cutting two large slits 
in its roof. The rest had not fared so well, but seemed fit 
enough, and the wonderful prospect from our camp at sunrise 
was a cheering sight. With the coolies, however, the case 
was different. Those who had been unwell overnight had 
not recovered, and it was evident that only a comparatively 
small number would be able to come on ; eventually I 
gathered ten, two men who both protested they were iU 
casting lots for the last place ; and of these ten it was evident 
that none were unaffected by the height and several were 
more seriously mountain-sick,* Under these circumstances 
it was necessary to consider which loads should be carried 
on. Bury, WoUaston and Morshead suggested that they 
should go back at once so as not to burden the party with 
the extra weight of their belongings, and it seemed the wisest 
plan that they should return. Certain stores were left behind 
at Lhakpa La as reserve suppUes for the chmbing party. 
I decided at an early hour that our best chance was to take 
an easy day ; after a late start and a very slow march we 
pitched our tents on the open snow up towards the col. 

It might have been supposed that in so deep a cwm 
and sheltered on three sides by steep mountain slopes, we 
should find a tranquil air and the soothing, though chilly 
calm of undisturbed frost. Night came clearly indeed, 
but with no gentle intentions. Fierce squalls of wind visited 
ovir tents and shook and worried them with the disagreeable 
threat of tearing them away from their moorings, and then 
scurried off, leaving us in wonder at the change and asking 
what next to expect. It was a cold wind at an altitude of 
22,000 feet, and however Uttle one may have suffered, the 
atmosphere discouraged sleep. Again I believe I was more 

* I use this expression to denote not a state of intermittent vomiting, 
but simply one in which physical exertion exhausts the body abnormally 
and causes a remarkable disinclination to further exertion. 



THE ASSAULT 259 

fortunate than my companions, but Bullock and Wheeler 
fared badly. Lack of sleep, since it makes one sleepy, always 
discourages an early start, and hot drinks take time to 
brew ; in any case, it was wise to start rather late so as 
to have the benefit of warm sun whenever our feet should 
be obliged to linger in cold snow or ice steps. It was an 
hour or so after sunrise when we left the camp and half an 
hour later we were breaking the crust on the first slopes 
under the wall. We had taken three coolies who were 
sufficiently fit and competent, and now proceeded to use 
them for the hardest work. Apart from one brief spell of 
cutting when we passed the corner of a bergschrund it was 
a matter of straightforward plugging, firstly slanting up 
to the right on partially frozen avalanche snow and then 
left in one long upward traverse to the summit. Only one 
passage shortly below the col caused either anxiety or trouble ; 
here the snow was lying at a very steep angle and was deep 
enough to be disagreeable. About 500 steps of very hard 
work covered all the worst of the traverse and we were 
on the col shortly before 11.30 a.m. By this time two coohes 
were distinctly tired, though by no means incapable of 
coming on ; the third, who had been in front, was com- 
paratively fresh. Wheeler thought he might be good for 
some further effort, but had lost all feeling in his feet. Bullock 
was tired, but by sheer will power would evidently come 
on — ^how far, one couldn't say. For my part I had had the 
wonderful good fortune of sleeping tolerably well at both 
high camps and now finding my best form ; I supposed I 
might be capable of another 2,000 feet, and there would 
be no time for more. But what lay ahead of us ? My eyes 
had often strayed, as we came up, to the rounded edge above 
the col and the final rocks below the North-east arete. If 
ever we had doubted whether the arete were accessible, 
it was impossible to doubt any longer. For a long way up 
those easy rock and snow slopes was neither danger nor 
difficulty. But at present there was wind. Even where 
we stood under the lee of a little ice cliff it came in fierce 



260 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

gusts at frequent intervals, blowing up the powdery snow 
in a suffocating tourbiUon. On the col beyond it was blowing 
a gale. And higher was a more fearful sight. The powdery 
fresh snow on the great face of Everest was being swept 
along in unbroken spindrift and the very ridge where our 
route lay was marked out to receive its unmitigated fury. 
We could see the blown snow deflected upwards for a moment 
where the wind met the ridge, only to rush violently down 
in a frightful bhzzard on the leeward side. To see, in fact, 
was enough ; the wind had settled the question ; it would 
have been foUy to go on. Nevertheless, some Httle discussion 
took place as to what might be possible, and we struggled 
a few steps further to put the matter to the test. For a 
few moments we exposed ourselves on the col to feel the 
full strength of the blast, then struggled back to shelter. 
Nothing more was said about pushing our assault any 
further. 

It remained to take a final decision on the morning of 
the 25th. We were evidently too weak a party to play a 
waiting game at this altitude. We must either take our 
camp to the col or go back. A serious objection to going 
forward lay in the shortage of coohes' rations. Had the 
men been fit it would not have been too much for them to 
return, as I had planned, unladen to Lhakpa La and reach 
Chang La again the same day. I doubted whether any two 
could be found to do that now ; and to subtract two was 
to leave only eight, of whom two were unfit to go on, so 
that six would remain to carry seven loads. However, 
the distance to the col was so short that I was confident 
such difficulties could be overcome one way or another. 

A more unpleasant consideration was the thought of 
requiring a party which already felt the height too much 
to sleep at least a 1,000 feet higher. We might well 
find it more than we could do to get back over Lhakpa La, 
and be forced to make a hungry descent down the Rongbuk 
Valley. There would be no disaster in that event. The 
crucial matter was the condition of the cHmbers. Were 



THE ASSAULT 261 

we fit to push the adventure further ? The situation, if 
any one of the whole party collapsed, would be extremely 
disagreeable, and aU the worse if he should be one of the 
Sahibs, who were none too many to look after the coohes 
in case of mountaineering difficulties. Such a coUapse I 
judged might weU be the fate of one or other of us if we 
were to push our assault above Chang La to the limit of 
our strength. And what more were we likely to accomphsh 
from a camp on Chang La ? The second night had been 
no less windy than the first. Soon after the weather cleared 
the wind had been strong from North-west, and seemed 
each day to become more violent. The only signs of a change 
now pointed to no improvement, but rather to a heavy 
fall of snow — by no means an improbable event according 
to local lore. The arguments, in fact, were all on one side ; 
it would be bad heroics to take wrong risks ; and fairly 
facing the situation one could only admit the necessity of 
retreat. 

It may be added that the real weakness of the party 
became only too apparent in the course of our return journey 
over Lhakpa La on this final day ; and it must be safe to 
say that none of the three climbers has ever felt a spasm of 
regret about the decision to go back or a moment's doubt as 
to its rightness. It was imposed upon us by circumstances 
without a reasonable alternative. 



CHAPTER XVI 

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 

Without consulting the meteorologist at Simla it is 
difficult to accept assertions about the monsoon as ultimate 
truth. Beyond a general, rather vague, agreement as to 
what should normally be expected, opinions differ not a 
little as to the measure and frequency of divergences from 
the norm. And individuals who observe in one locality 
more or less than they hope or expect are apt to forget 
that their dearth or plenty may be elsewhere compensated 
by capricious incidence. Nevertheless it seems certain 
that this year's rainfall in North-east India was above the 
normal both in amount and duration. " We had good rain," 
people said, and I was tempted to reply, " We had bad 
snow." Travelling through India I frequently asked questions 
on this point, and almost invariably heard of an unusually 
bountiful rainfall, seldom of one which was merely sufficient. 
Inhabitants of DarjeeMng, who have observed the hills in 
the changing seasons for many years, told me that it was 
almost unheard of that so much snow should fall in September 
and lie so low. The general tenor of such remarks may 
probably be appHed to an area including not only Mount 
Everest itself and the great peaks in its neighbourhood, 
but also a considerable tract of country to the North. The 
monsoon, according to Tibetan information, started perhaps 
a Httle later than usual, but was still more late in coming 
to an end ; the Tibetans ordinarily He with an object, 
and there could be no object in deceiving us about the 
weather. It may be concluded the year was abnormally 
wet, though to what extent on Everest itself can hardly be 
divined, 

262 



WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 263 

During our outward journey through Sikkim we saw 
nothing of the high peaks. It was not until the day of our 
march to Phari Dzong (May 28) that we had a clear view 
of the snows, and we had then the good fortune to see 
Chomolhari late in the morning. But Chomolhari and the 
range to the North of it were less visited by clouds than the 
peaks further South. Pawhunri, Kanchenjunga, Chomiomo 
were less often visible, and even at this early season we 
began to observe the usual habit of clouds to rise from the 
valleys or to form about the summits at an early hour, to 
be dissipated not before evening. The weather was not 
necessarily bad because the peaks were veiled. When we 
first saw Everest from Kampa Dzong on June 6, it was 
obscured some three hours after sunrise, but the weather 
seemed fine : and on two subsequent days we made the 
same observation. On June 13, from the hills above Shiling, 
BuUock and I were trying to make out the Everest group 
through glasses for about three hours. When first we looked 
in that direction, it appeared that a storm was in progress, 
with dark clouds drifting up from the West ; but Kanchen- 
junga at the same time was a glorious sight, and all the 
mountains were clear before sunset. The most splendid of 
the distant views was from Ponglet on June 19 : we were 
up our hiU half an hour after sunrise and half an hour later 
there was nothing to be seen. There may have been malice 
in the clouds that day. It was radiantly fine where we were ; 
but in the afternoon we came under the edge of a thunderstorm 
which drenched the main body of the Expedition as they 
were approaching Tingri ; and there was a definite break 
in the weather at this time. 

I suppose this break may be taken as the forerunner 
of the monsoon on Mount Everest. Storms there may 
have been before ; but, generally speaking, it had been 
fine over the mountains since the beginning of June, and 
though the evidence is slight enough it seems probable 
that Everest received little or no snow before June 20. 
When first we saw it, a few days later, from the Rongbuk 



264 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

Glacier, it was stiU comparatively black. It appeared a 
rocky mass with a white arm to the right, some permanent 
snow on the ledges and in the gulhes of the face turned 
Northwards in our direction and some snow again on the 
high North-east arete ; but with no pretensions to be a 
snow-mountain, a real sugar-cake as it seemed afterwards 
to become. We were lucky in having a few fine days at 
the outset of our reconnaissance. The conditions then 
were very different from those which obtained later. The 
recent snow must have melted quickly ; we found clean 
ice on an East-facing slope at 21,000 feet and also at a gentler 
angle on one facing West. On Ri-ring the slopes were 
generally covered with snow near the crest, thinly but 
sufficiently, or we should never have got up ; near the 
summit we found ice on both sides, North and South. It 
is impossible to say up to what height one might have found 
ice in June. Appearances suggested that on aU but the 
steepest slopes above 23,000 feet the surface was hard snow 
rather than ice. 

It was on the day following our ascent of Ri-ring, July 6, 
that we first experienced a real snowfall ; and we woke 
next morning to find 3 or 4 inches covering the ground. In 
so far as an exact date can be ascribed to what is hardly a 
single event, July 6-7 may be taken as the beginning of 
the monsoon. We imagined at first that this snowfall was 
an important matter, sufficient to prevent chmbing at any 
considerable height for several days. But from subsequent 
observations we came to treat such snowfalls with a certain 
degree of contempt. It was more often than not the case 
during the whole of July until the date of our departure 
that snow fell during the day — sometimes perhaps for a 
comparatively short period between noon and sunset, not 
seldom for many hovirs, intermittently during the day from 
the middle of the morning, and continuing into the night. 
But it was often so far as we were concerned a harmless 
phenomenon. Snow was precipitated from clouds so thin 
that they were easily penetrated by the sun's heat ; it 



WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 265 

melted where it lay, and the moisture so readily evaporated 
that the snow had hardly stopped falling before the ground 
was dry. One might suppose that a few hundred feet higher, 
where the snow could be seen to lie where it fell, the effects 
would be more severe ; but it was remarkable after half a 
day's unceasing precipitation of this fine granular snow 
that one might go up early next morning, perhaps to 
20,000 feet, and find no more than a thin covering of 2 or 
3 inches on the stones. 

In saying that this sort of weather was harmless, I am 
not denying that it hindered our operations ; but from 
the point of view merely of the climber it was remarkably 
innocuous. A case in point is our ascent of Ri-ring. As 
we were nearing the summit a thunderstorm gathered to 
the North and dark clouds came up on every hand, threatening 
a violent disturbance. I have related in an earlier chapter 
how we hurried down, expecting at the least a cold unpleasant 
wind and some nasty snow showers ; but the air remained 
calm and the temperature warm and such grains of snow 
as fell were hardly remarked in our flight. A more disagreeable 
experience was our first journey to the col from which 
we afterwards looked into the West Cwm of Everest ; we 
reached the pass in the teeth of a wind which drove the 
snow into our faces ; but the weather had no real sting, 
and the wind, though cold, seemed to touch us lightly. 
Wind, in fact, was never an enemy to be feared dmring the 
whole period of the monsoon, and snowstorms, though they 
prevented more than one expedition, never turned us back. 
The delays in our reconnaissance caused by bad weather 
were of course considerable ; we were forced to push our 
camps higher than would have otherwise been necessary, 
and often found ourselves hurrying after a start before dawn 
in a desperate race with the clouds to reach a view-point 
before the view had disappeared. And the precipitation of 
snow on the glaciers forced us invariably to wear snow-shoes 
on neve, and consequently limited the numbers in our 
parties. 



266 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

I have already aUuded to a more serious snowfall which 
took place from July 20 to 25. Another occurred during 
the first days of August and another again on August 20 
and 21, when snow came down below 16,000 feet. In 
September, towards the end of the monsoon, the weather 
was more monotonously malicious and the snowfall tended 
to be heavier ; I find two heavy falls noted particularly 
in my diary. But on the whole it was the habit of snow 
to fall lightly. It is remarkable, when one calls to mind 
such a big snowfall as may occur during the chmbing season 
ia the Alps before the weather is resolved to be fine, how 
little snow by comparison feU on any one day in the region 
of Mount Everest. And perhaps in the end the slopes were 
more laden by the smaller precipitations which deposited 
a daily accretion. 

We naturally sought an answer to the interminable 
query as to how much melting took place at the highest 
altitudes. Melting of course was always quicker on rocks. 
But even on the glaciers it was remarkably rapid whenever 
the sun shone brightly, and we were more than once surprised 
after a period of cloudy weather with constant snow showers 
to find how much the snow had consohdated. It seemed 
to us on more than one occasion that whUe snow had been 
falling at our camps and on the lower peaks, Everest itself 
must have escaped. But, generally speaking, after July 6 
the mountain was remarkably white and became increasingly 
whiter, and only at the least two perfectly fine days, which 
rarely came together, made any perceptible difference. 
It was remarkable how little ice was ever observable on 
the steep Eastern face, where one would expect to see icicles 
hanging about the rocks. It is my own impression for what 
it is worth, and its value I fear is smaU, that though snow 
will melt readily enough low down, at least up to 23,000 feet 
during the warmer weather even on cloudy days, at greater 
altitudes, perhaps above 25,000 feet, it rarely melts even 
in bright sunshine. In September this year I doubt if it 
melted at all above 23,000 feet after the weather cleared. 



WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 267 

At lower elevations the direction and angle of the slope 
made all the difference. After one fine day the snow on a 
steep East slope had solidified to a remarkable degree at 
about 20,000 feet ; on a North-facing slope at a similar 
elevation it had been quite unaffected ; on flat surfaces 
1,000 feet higher a perceptible crust had formed, but 
the snow remained powdery below it as on the day when 
it fell. After three and four fine days the snowy surface 
of a glacier was absolutely hard at about 20,000 feet and 
remained soHd in the afternoon. Fifteen hundred feet 
higher we were breaking a hard crust and sinking in a foot 
or more. This condition may have been partly due to the 
local behaviour of clouds, which were apt to cling about a 
ridge overlooking the glacier and cast a shadow on this 
part of it. But higher, on more open ground, we met the 
same condition ; and again the slopes facing North preserved 
a powdery snow which never changed before it was blown 
down in avalanches. Perhaps the most convincing phenomena 
were the powdery snow high up on the Eastern slopes under 
the North col and the snow on the Western slopes at a 
similar elevation under Lhakpa La, which was hardly more 
solid, while 1,000 feet lower we found excellent snow. 
It is difficult to resist the conclusion that altitude is a 
determining factor in the sun's power of melting. It is 
possible that a fine might always be drawn on any given 
day above which the temperature of the air is too cold for 
snow to melt where it has fallen on snow, and another to 
meet the case where it covers rocks. From our aU too 
limited observations in June I should judge that in the 
middle of summer such imaginary lines would be above the 
height of Everest, but in other and cooler seasons we should 
quickly find them lower and a long way below the summit. 

In close connection with the snow's melting we had to 
consider the possibility of avalanches. Our observations 
on this head were so meagre that I can only make with 
the greatest difiidence a few statements about them. It is 
astonishing to reflect how seldom we either saw or heard 



268 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

an avalanche, or even noticed the debris of one under steep 
slopes which had been laden with snow. Only on two 
occasions, I beUeve, were we confronted in practice with 
the question as to whether a slope could safely be crossed. 
The first was on August 7 in ascending the peak Carpo-ri, 
of which I have previously made mention. The heavy 
snowfall at the beginning of the month had ceased during 
the night August 4-5 ; the following days had been warm 
but cloudy, and on both there had been prolonged snow 
showers of the lighter sort in the afternoon and evening. 
On the night of August 6 we had hard frost at 17,500 feet, 
and there was a considerable sprinkling of fresh snow on 
the stones of the moraine. Between the col and the summit 
we met some very steep snow slopes on the South side : 
we carried no cHnometer and I shall not venture to estimate 
their angles of inclination. It was on this occasion, as I 
have narrated, that in crossing a shallow scoop I was very 
much afraid of an avalanche, but was able to choose a safe 
line where we were protected and helped by an island of 
rocks. Tlie snow here was inclined to be powdery ; but it 
had sohdified in some degree and, where we had to tread 
it, adhered sufficiently to the slope so as to give one a distinct 
confidence that it would not slide off wherever it might be 
crossed. Above this place we were able to avoid danger 
by following an edge where the snow was not so deep ; but 
here again I noticed with surprise the adhesion between 
new snow and old. The ice below was not solid and smooth, 
but frothy and rough, and easily penetrated by a strong 
blow of the axe ; it seemed to have been formed very quickly. 
The snow showed no inclination to slide off, though it was 
not of the substance in which a secure step could be made : 
and I concluded that the process of assimilation between 
the old surface and the new snow must proceed very rapidly 
whenever the temperature was warm enough. On the final 
slope, which was even steeper, more snow was lying — it 
was a more powdery substance : I was able again to escape 
danger on an edge dividing two faces ; but it was surprising 



WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 269 

that no avalanche had already taken place and that the 
Bnow contrived to stay where it was. 

The other occasion when we had to face and determine 
the possibility of an avalanche was in traversing the slopes 
to the North Col. Here our feet undoubtedly found a soUd 
bed to tread upon, but the substance above it was dubiously 
loose. It was my conviction at the time that with axes 
well driven in above us we were perfectly safe here. But 
on the way down we observed a space of 5 yards or so where 
the surface snow had slid away below our tracks. The 
disquieting thoughts that necessarily followed this discovery 
left and still leave me in some doubt as to how great a risk, 
if any, we were actually taking. But it is natural to suppose 
that at a higher elevation or in a cooler season, because 
the snow adheres less rapidly to the slopes on which it lies, 
an avalanche of new snow is more Hkely to occur. 

Temperature 

Before attempting to draw conclusions as to the relative 
chances of j&nding favourable conditions between one month 
and another, a few words must be said about temperature. 

So far as the temperature of the air was concerned, we 
experienced no severe cold and suffered no hardships from 
first to last. I do not mean to affirm that it was always 
warm. We welcomed frost at nights as one does in the 
Alps. One night so early as July 18, in a camp above 
19,000 feet, was exceptionally cold. At our two last camps 
in September the thermometer went down to two or three 
degrees below zero (Fahr.) and the wind at the final camp 
made it more difficult to keep warm ; with as Httle protection 
as the cooHes had, I should no doubt have shivered in my 
tent. The air also seemed very cold before sunrise on 
September 20, though we were walking fast ; but it did not 
bite the tip of my nose or ears or cause any disagreeable result. 
In general it may be said that there could be no difiiculty 
in providing equipment against any cold we encountered. 
Heat was a much more dangerous enemy, as I indicated 



270 THE RECONKAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

in describing our first ascent to Lhakpa La. Personally 
I never felt the sun's power on my head, but I felt it on 
my back so early as 8 a.m. as a definite attack on my energy 
and vital power, and more than once, though the sun waa 
not shining, in crossing a glacier late in the day I was reduced 
from a state of alert activity to one of heavy lassitude. 

The temperature of the snow is another consideration 
of very great importance. Even in July I felt the snow 
to be cold in the middle of the day towards the summit 
of Ri-ring, and when wearing snow-shoes in fresh snow 
under 20,000 feet coohes and all felt the cold in their feet. 
Later I apprehended a real danger from this source. The 
coohes were encouraged to anoint their feet with whale 
oU, and we avoided accident and even complaint : but I 
always admired their resistance to cold. Personally, though 
I am not particularly a cold-footed person, I took the 
precaution of wearing two pairs of long socks which were 
both new and thick, and a third from which, unfortunately, 
the toes had to be amputated owing to the timid miscalcidation 
of my bootmaker : this equipment sufficed and I found 
my feet perfectly warm, whUe one of my companions was 
obliged to pull off a boot in order to restore circulation, 
and the other went on with numb feet and barely escaped 
frost-bite. And I must again emphasise the fact that this 
was on an Eastern slope well warmed by the sun in the 
middle of the morning and at an altitude no higher than 
about 22,500 feet. It may readily be concluded that 
forethought and care are in no respect more necessary than in 
guarding against frozen feet among a large party at the highest 
altitudes. And the difficulty of guarding against this danger 
might well determine the hmits at either end of the warmest 
weather within which an assault should be launched on Everest 
itself or any one of the half-dozen or so highest peaks. 

The Best Season for Climbing 
It will hardly be doubtful from the whole tendency of 
my preceding remarks about weather and conditions that 



WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 271 

my opinion inclines decisively to the earlier rather than 
the later season as offering the best chances of climbing 
Mount Everest. We cannot of course assume that because 
September was a bad month this year it wiU always be a 
bad month. But supposing the monsoon were to end 
punctually and a fair speU to have set in by the first day of 
September — even then it appears to me improbable that 
the fresh snow fallen during the monsoon would sufficiently 
melt near the top of the mountain two and a half months 
after midsummer. As to the prospects of wind, we can 
only be content with the statement that in this particular 
year the wind after the end of the monsoon would alone 
have defeated even the most determined attempt to reach 
the summit. A wind strong enough to blow up the snow 
must always, I believe, prevent an ascent. A superman 
might perhaps be found, but never a party of men whose 
endurance at high altitudes would warrant the risk of 
exhaustion in struggUng for long hours against such adverse 
circumstances. For the earlier season it may be said again, 
as a simple observation upon which little enough can be 
buUt, that the appearance of the clouds before the monsoon 
did not suggest wind, but rather a calm air on the summit. 
What precisely the conditions may be, for instance, in May 
and June, 1922, or what we ought normally to expect, cannot 
be determined with certainty. WUl the whole of the snow 
fallen during the monsoon of 1921 have melted before the 
next moonsoon, and if so by what date ? Will the amount of 
snow on the mountain be the same in June, 1922, as twelve 
months before ? Or will black and white appear in altered 
proportions ? And if the snow has melted, where wiQ ice 
be found ? It might well be that under the North Col all 
the steeper slopes wUl have lost their snow. And what of 
the final arete ? One conjectvire seems as good as another, 
and the experience of more travelled mountaineers will 
suggest the most probable answer to these questions with 
an instinct less fallible than mine. Nevertheless, I think it 
may be said that the chances are aU in favour of the earlier 



272 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

season. We know, for instance, about this year that snow 
must have melted since the last monsoon and actually was 
melting fast in June, but the summer's snow does not always 
melt before the winter — not this year, for instance : the 
chances, therefore, of finding it melted in June are better 
than those of finding it melted in September. It may be 
contended that it might then have melted too much so that 
a party would find ice where they would wish to find snow. 
But one must prefer the lesser of two evils. Ice is far from 
an insuperable obstacle on Mount Everest ; almost anywhere 
above Chang La crampons would overcome it : but powdery 
snow, in case the snow has melted too little, is a deadly 
handicap. Finally, the earher is the warmer season with 
less danger to vulnerable feet and requiring a fighter 
equipment. 



CHAPTER XVII 
THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 

The reader who has carefully followed the preceding 
story will hardly have faUed to notice that the route which 
has been chosen as the only one offering reasonable chances 
of success remains still very largely a matter of speculation. 
But the recomiaissance, unless it were actually to reach 
the summit, was obliged to leave much unproved, and its 
value must depend upon observations in various sorts and 
not merely upon the practice of treading the snow and rocks. 
Speculation in this case is founded upon experience of certain 
phenomena and a study of the mountain's features ; and 
it is by relating what has been only seen with known facts 
that inferences have been drawn. 

It may perhaps be accounted a misfortune that the 
party of 1921 did not approach Chang La by the East Rongbuk 
Glacier. The Lhakpa La proved a bigger obstacle than 
was expected. But in conditions such as we hope to find 
before the monsoon, this way would have much to recommend 
it. It avoids aU laborious walking on a dry glacier, and 
with hard snow the walk up to the pass from the camp on 
stones at 20,000 feet should not be unduly fatiguing. StiU 
the fact remains that the descent from the Lhakpa La on 
to the East Rongbuk Glacier is not less than 1,200 feet. 
Would it not be better to follow up this glacier from the 
Rongbuk VaUey ? The absence of wood on this side need 
not deter the party of 1922. For them plenty of time will 
be available sufficiently to provide their base with fuel, 
and the sole consideration should be the easiest line of 
approach ; and though no one has traversed the whole 
length of the East Rongbuk Glacier, enough is known to 



274 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

choose this way with conjfidence. Here, as on other glaciers 
which we saw, the difficulties clearly He below the Umit of 
perpetual snow, and the greater part of them were avoided 
or solved by Major Wheeler, who found a practicable way 
on to the middle of the glacier at about 19,000 feet, and 
felt certain that the medial moraine ahead of him would 
serve for an ascent and be no more arduous than the moraines 
of the West Rongbuk Glacier had proved to be. The view 
of this way from the Lhakpa La confirmed his opinion, and 
though it may be called a speculation to choose it, whereas 
the way from the East has been estabhshed by experiment, 
it is a fair inference from experience to conclude that the 
untraversed section of the East Rongbuk Glacier, a distance 
which could be accomphshed very easily in one march if all 
went well, will afiord a simple approach to Chang La. 

The Eastern wall, about 1,000 feet high, by which the 
gap itself must be reached, can never be hghtly esteemed. 
Here reconnaissance has forged a link. But those who 
reached the col were not laden with tents and stores ; and 
on another occasion the conditions may be difierent. There 
may be the danger of an avalanche or the difficulty of ice. 
From what we saw this year before the monsoon had brought 
a heavy snowfall it is by no means improbable that ice will 
be found at the end of May on the steepest slope below 
Chang La. In that case much labour -ndll be required to 
hew and keep in repair a staircase, and perhaps fix a banister, 
so that the laden cooHes, not all of whom will be competent 
ice-men, may be brought up in safety. 

The summit of Mount Everest is about 6,000 feet above 
Chang La ; the distance is something hke 2|- miles and 
the whole of it is unexplored. What grounds have we for 
thinking that the mountaineering difficulties will not prove 
insuperable, that in so far as mere chmbing is concerned 
the route is practicable ? Two factors, generally speaking, 
have to be considered : the nature of the ground and the 
general angle of mchnation. Where the cHmber is confined 
to a narrow crest and can find no way to circumvent an 



THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 276 

obstacle, a very small tower or wall, a matter of 20 feet, 
may bar his progress. There the general angle may be 
what it likes : the important matter for him is that the 
angle is too steep in a particular place. But on a mountain's 
face where his choice is not limited to a strict and narrow 
way, the general angle is of primary importance : if it is 
sufficiently gentle, the climber will find that he may wander 
almost where he wiU to avoid the steeper places. Long 
before we reached Chang La Mr. BuUock and I were fairly 
weU convinced that the slope from here to the North-east 
Shoulder was sufficiently gentle and that the nature of the 
ill-defined ridge connecting these two points was not such 
as to Hmit the choice of route to a narrow line. Looldng up 
from the North Col, we learnt nothing more about the angles. 
The view, however, was not without value ; it amply 
confirmed our opinion as to the character of what lay ahead 
of us. The ridge is not a crest ; its section is a wide and 
rounded angle. It is not decorated by pinnacles, it does 
not rise in steps. It presents a smooth continuous way, 
and whether the rocks are still covered with powdery snow, 
or only slightly sprinkled and for the most part bare, the 
party of 1922 should be able to go up a long way at aU events 
without meeting any serious obstacle. It may not prove a 
perfectly simple matter actually to reach the North-east 
arete above the shoulder at about 28,000 feet. The angle 
becomes steeper towards this arete. But even in the last 
section below it, the choice of a way should not be 
inconveniently restricted. On the right of the ascending 
party will be permanent snow on various sloping ledges, 
an easy alternative to rocks if the snow is found in good 
condition, and always offering a detour by which to avoid 
an obstacle. 

From the North-east Shoulder to the summit of 
the mountain the way is not so smooth. The rise is 
only 1,000 feet in a distance of half a mile, but the first part 
of the crest is distinctly jagged by several towers and the 
last part is steep. Much will depend upon the possibility 



276 THE RECONNAISSANCE OP THE MOUNTAIN 

of escaping from the crest to avoid the obstacles and of 
regairiiag it easily. The South-east side (left going up) is 
terribly steep, and it will almost certainly be out of the 
question to traverse there. But the sloping snow-covered 
ledges on the North-west may serve very weU ; the difficulty 
about them is their tendency to be horizontal in direction 
and to diverge from the arete where it slopes upwards, so 
that a party which had followed one in preference to the 
crest might find themselves cut ofi by a cliff running across 
the face above them. But one way or another I think it 
should be possible with the help of such ledges to reach the 
final obstacle. The summit itself is like the thin end of a 
wedge thrust up from the mass in which it is embedded. 
The edge of it, with the highest point at the far end, can 
only be reached from the North-east by cKmbing a steep 
blunt edge of snow. The height of this final obstacle must 
be fully 200 feet. Mr. Bullock and I examined it often 
through our field-glasses, and though it did not appear 
insuperable, whatever our point of view, it never looked 
anything but steep. 



To determine whether it is humanly possible to cHmb 
to the summit of Mount Everest or what may be the chances 
of success in such an undertaking, other factors besides 
the mere mountaineering difficulties have to be considered. 
It is at least probable that the obstacles presented by this 
mountain could be overcome by any competent party if 
they met them in the Alps. But it is a very different matter 
to be confronted with such obstacles at elevations between 
23,000 and 29,000 feet. We do not know that it is 
physiologically possible at such high altitudes for the human 
body to make the efforts required to lift itself up even on 
the simplest ground. The condition of the party of 1921 
in September during the days of the Assault cannot be taken 
as evidence that the feat is impossible. The long periods 
spent in high camps and the tax of many exhausting 



THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 277 

expeditions had undoubtedly reduced the physical efficiency 
of Sahibs and coolies ahke. The party of 1922, on the other 
hand, will presumably choose for their attempt a time when 
the climbers are at the top of their form and their powers 
will depend on the extent of their adaptability to the condition 
of high altitude. Nothing perhaps was so astonishing in 
the party of reconnaissance as the rapidity with which they 
became acclimatised and capable of great exertions between 
18,000 and 21,000 feet. Where is the limit of this process ? 
Will the multiplication of red corpuscles continue so that 
men may become acclimatised much higher ? There is 
evidence enough to show that they may exist comfortably 
enough, eating and digesting hearty meals and retaining a 
feeling of vitality and energy up to 23,000 feet. It may be 
that, after two or three days quietly spent at this height, 
the body would sufficiently adjust itself to endure the stiU 
greater difference from normal atmospheric pressure 6,000 feet 
higher. At aU events, a practical test can alone provide the 
proof in such a case. Experiments carried out in a laboratory 
by putting a man into a sealed chamber and reducing the 
pressure say to half an atmosphere, valuable as they may 
be when related to the experiences of airmen, can establish 
nothing for mountaineers ; for they leave out of account 
the all-important physiological factor of acclimatisation. 
But in any case it is to be expected that efforts above 
23,000 feet will be more exhausting than those at lower 
elevations ; and it may weU be that the nature of the ground 
will turn the scale against the climber. For him it is all 
important that he should be able to breathe regularly, the 
demand upon his lungs along the final arete cannot fail to 
be a terrible strain, and anything like a tussle up some steep 
obstacle which would interfere with the regularity of his 
breathing might prove to be an ordeal beyond his strength. 
As a way out of these difficulties of breathing, the use 
of oxygen has often been recommended and experiments 
were made by Dr. KeUas,* which wiU be continued in 1922. 
* See Geographical Journal. 



278 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

Even so there will remain the difficulty of estabhshing 
one or perhaps two camps above Chang La (23,000 feet). 
It is by no means certain that any place exists above this 
point on which tents could be pitched. Perhaps the party 
will manage without tents, but no great economy of weight 
will be effected that way ; those who sleep out at an elevation 
of 25,000 or 26,000 feet wUl have to be bountifully provided 
with warm things. Probably about fifteen, or at least 
twelve loads wiU have to be carried up from Chang La. 
It is not expected that oxygen will be available for this 
purpose, and the task, whatever organisation is provided, 
wiU be severe, possibly beyond the limits of human strength. 

Further, another sort of difficulty will jeopardise the 
chances of success. It might be possible for two men to 
struggle somehow to the summit, disregarding every other 
consideration. It is a different matter to chmb the mountain 
as mountaineers would have it climbed. Principles, time- 
honoured in the Alpine Club, must of course be respected 
in the ascent of Mount Everest. The party must keep a 
margin of safety. It is not to be a mad enterprise rashly 
pushed on regardless of danger. The iU-considered acceptance 
of any and every risk has no part in the essence of persevering 
courage. A mountaineering enterprise may keep sanity and 
sound judgment and remain an adventure. And of all 
principles by which we hold the first is that of mutual help. 
What is to be done for a man who is sick or abnormally 
exhausted at these high altitudes ? His companions must 
see to it that he is taken down at the first opportunity and 
with an adequate escort ; and the obligation is the same 
whether he be Sahib or coolie ; if we ask a man to carry 
our loads up the mountain we must care for his welfare at 
need. It may be taken for granted that such need will 
arise and will interfere very seriously with any organisation 
however ingeniously and carefully it may be arranged. 

In all it may be said that one factor beyond all others 
is required for success. Too many chances are against the 



THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 279 

climbers ; too many contingencies may turn against them. 
Anything like a breakdown of the transport will be fatal ; 
soft snow on the mountain will be an impregnable defence ; 
a big wind will send back the strongest ; even so small a 
matter as a boot fitting a shade too tight may endanger 
one man's foot and involve the whole party in retreat. The 
climbers must have above all things, if they are to win through, 
good fortune, and the greatest good fortune of all for 
mountaineers, some constant spirit of kindness in Mount 
Everest itself, the forgetfulness for long enough of its more 
cruel moods ; for we must remember that the highest of 
mountains is capable of severity, a severity so awful and so 
fatal that the wiser sort of men do well to think and tremble 
even on the threshold of their high endeavour. 



NATURAL HISTORY 

By a. F. R. WOLLASTON 

CHAPTER XVin 
AN EXCURSION TO NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 

By a liberal interpretation of the expression " Mount 
Everest " we considered it necessary to explore the 
surrounding country as far as a hundred miles or more from 
the mountain, East, North and South ; in all directions, 
that is, excepting toward the forbidden territory of Nepal, 
So it happened one day in July that Major Morshead and I, 
already nearly fifty miles from Everest, set out in a 
South-westerly direction, he anxious to add a few hundred 
square miles of new country to his map, and I intent on 
animals and plants. Our way lay across the Tingri Plain 
to Langkor, both names famous in the annals of Tibetan 
Buddhism. The following story was told us by an old monk 
in the monastery at Langkor : — 

Many generations ago there was born in the Indian village 
of Pulahari a child named Tamba Sangay. When he grew 
into a youth he became restless and dissatisfied with his 
native place, so he went to visit the Lord Buddha and asked 
him what he should do. The Lord Buddha told him that 
he must take a stone and throw it far, and where the stone 
fell there he should spend his life. So Tamba Sangay took 
a rotmded stone and threw it far, so that no one saw where 
it fell. Many months he sought in vain until he passed 
over the Hills into Tibet, and there he came to a place where, 
although it was winter, was a large black space bare of snow. 

281 



282 NATURAL HISTORY 

The people told him that the cattle walked round and round 
in that space to keep it clear from snow, and in the middle 
of it was a rounded stone. So Tamba Sangay knew that 
the stone was his, and there he made a cell and dwelt until 
he was taken on wings to Heaven. And the place is called 
Langkor, which means " the cattle go round," to this day. 
The people for many miles about had heard the stone as it 
came flying over the Hills from India ; it made a whistliag 
sound hke Ting, so the country came to be called Tingri, the 
Hill of the Ting. 

We visited the Langkor monastery and saw the casket 
in which the stone of Tamba Sangay is kept, only to be opened 
once a year by a high dignitary from Lhasa. Close by 
was a fair-sized river, the bridge over which had been 
carried away by a recent flood. The greater part of the 
population was busily engaged in repairing the bridge, to the 
accompaniment at frequent intervals of hideous blasts on a 
large conch-sheU : this, we were told, was to keep the rain 
away and stop the floods. Rain fell heavily in spite of the 
noise, but the bridge was finished before nightfall. 

On the following day we had a long pull of many miles 
up to the Thung La, a pass of 18,000 feet, from which we 
had hoped for fine views over the surrounding country. A 
driving storm of snow blotted out the views and covered 
the ground, so that nothing was to be seen but Httle clumps, 
a few inches high, of poppies of the most heavenly blue. 
Going down the steep track beyond the pass I was stopped 
by hearing the unfamiliar note of a bird, so it seemed : the 
cry was almost exactly that of a female peregrme when its 
eyrie has been disturbed, but coming from a labyrinth of 
fallen rocks it could not be. Tracking the note from one 
rock to another, I came suddenly within a few yards of a 
large marmot, which sat up and waved her tail at me ; she 
called again and two haK-gro"mi young ones appeared close 
by ; then aU dived into a burrow. These marmots are 
larger and far less timid of mankind than the marmots of 
the Alps. 



NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 283 

A few miles below the pass the vaUey widened into an 
almost level bottom of half a mile or more, with steep bare 
limestone hills on either side. Here and there were small 
hamlets, where the inhabitants used the water of the river 
to irrigate their fields of barley and of blazing golden mustard, 
whose sweetness scented the vaUey in the sunshine. Like 
most of the butter, which is made in vast quantities in 
Southern Tibet, the mustard seed produces oil for monastery 
lamps. At one place we came across a spring, almost a 
fountain, bubbhng out of the foothill, of clearest sparkling 
mineral water that would be the envy of Bath or of 
Marienbad ; in a few yards it had become a racing stream a 
dozen feet in width. 

Four days of leisurely walking down the vaUey brought 
us to the village of Nyenyam, where the whole population, 
a most unpleasant-looking crowd of four or five hundred 
people, came out to stare at us. A few only were Tibetans ; 
the majority were obviously of Indian origin, calling 
themselves Nepalese, but without any of the distinctive 
features of that race. We had received some weeks earlier 
a cordial invitation from the Jongpens of Nyenyam to visit 
the place, and we were accordingly much disappointed to 
find that no person of authority came out to welcome us. 
A Jongpen, it should be said, is an official appointed by 
the Lhasa authorities to administer a district and collect 
revenues : in a place of any importance, as at Nyenyam, 
there are often two, the idea being that one will keep an eye 
on the other and prevent him from over-enriching himself. 
We visited these worthies, whom we found dressed in priceless 
Chinese silk gowns and cultivating the extreme fashion of 
long nails on aU their fingers, in strange contrast to the squalor 
and dilapidation of their dwelling, and were annoyed to find 
that they denied all knowledge of the invitation. The 
bearer of the message was produced and lied manfuUy in 
their cause ; the name of Nyenyam was not, as it happened, 
mentioned in our passport, and we were made to look 
somewhat foolish. Finally the Jongpens said (with their 



284 NATURAL HISTORY 

tongues in their cheeks and reminding us of a vulgar song) 
that they were very glad to see us, but they hoped that we 
would go. They then went out of their way to give us false 
information about the local passes and made our prolonged 
stay in the place impossible by discouraging the traders from 
dealing with us.* 

Nyenyam, though more squahd and evil-smelling than 
any place in my experience, is of some importance as being 
the last Tibetan town before the frontier of Nepal is reached. 
It is well placed on a level terrace above the junction of the 
Po Chu with an almost equally big river flowing from the 
glaciers of the great mountain mass of Gosainthan. 
Immediately below the town the river enters the stupendous 
gorge that cuts through the heart of the Himalaya to the 
more open country of Nepal, 8,000 feet below. To the West 
of Nyenyam rises a great range of mountains culminating 
in the beautiful peaks of Gosainthan, which we had hoped 
to visit, and somewhere to the East lay the mysterious 
sacred mountain of Lapche Kang. Our friends the Jongpens 
assured us that there was no direct route to Lapche, that we 
must go back the way by which we had come, and so on ; 
but we were weary of their obstructions and made up our 
minds to find a way to the holy places. 

So far our transport animals had been the yak, or the 
cross-bred ox-yak, a stronger beast ; we were now going 
through country where only coohes could carry loads. We 
retraced our steps a few miles up the valley to a village ruled 
over by a friendly woman, the widow of the late headman. 
True, she demanded for the coolies an exorbitant wage, which 
we cut down by about a half, but she pressed into our service 
every able-bodied person in the neighbourhood, young and 
old, men and women. They have a fair and simple way 
of apportioning the loads. All Tibetans, men and women 
ahke, wear long rope-soled boots with wooUen cloth tops 
extending toward the knee, where they are secured by garters, 

* In fairness it must be said that this was the only occasion on which 
we met with anything but help and civility from Tibetan officials. 



NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 285 

long strips of narrow woven cloth. When all the loads are 
ready, each person takes off one garter and gives it to the 
headman, who shuffles them well and in his turn hands them 
over to some neutral person who knows not the ownership 
of the garters. He lays one on the top of each load, and 
whose garter it is must carry the load without any further 
talk. It is amusing to watch the excitement in their faces 
as the garters are dealt out, and to hear the shrieks of delight 
of the lucky ones and the groans of the less fortunate. It 
makes one feel weak and ashamed to see a small girl of 
apparently no more than fourteen years shouldering a huge 
tent or an unwieldy box, until one remembers that they 
begin to carry almost as soon as they can walk and are 
accustomed to far heavier loads than ever they carry for us. 

Our path led us up a steep side-vaUey from the P6 Chu, 
ascending over a vast moraine to the foot of a small glacier 
about two mUes in length. Here I saw a rare sight : a 
Lammergeier (bearded vulture) came sailing down in wide 
circles and settled on the ice barely a hundred paces from 
us, where he began to peck at something — a dead hare 
perhaps, but it was impossible to see or to approach nearer 
over the crevasses. The Lammergeier, vulture though it is, 
is one of the noblest birds in flight that may be seen : hardly 
a day passes in the high mountains without one or more 
swooping down to look at you, sometimes so near that you 
can see his beard and gleaming eye ; but to see one on the 
ground is rare indeed. The long-tailed aeroplane at a very 
great height resembles the Lammergeier more than any other 
bird. 

We struggled up the glacier, inches deep in soft new 
snow, crossed crevasses by means of rotten planks which 
gravely offended our mountaineering sense, and came through 
dense fog to our pass at its head. Here began the sacred 
mountain of Lapche Kang, and on the rocks beside the pass, 
and on many of the pinnacles high up above the pass as well, 
were cairns of stones supporting little reed-stemmed flags 
of prayers. Some of our party had brought up from below 



286 NATURAL HISTORY 

such little flags, which they planted where their fancy 
prompted. As we went down on the other side we came to 
countless httle " chortens," miniature temples, and, where 
the ground was level for a space, to long walls of stones, 
each one inscribed with the universal Buddhist prayer OM 

MANI PADME HUM. 

Yaks are most satisfactory beasts of burden ; if their pace 
is slow — ^it is seldom more than two miles an hour — ^they go 
with hardly a halt, cropping a tuft of grass here and there, 
until daylight fails. But the Tibetan cooHe is of quite 
another nature ; he (or she) starts off gaily enough in the 
morning, but very soon he is glad to stop for a gossip or to 
alter the trim of his load, and then it is time to drink tea, and 
again at every convenient halting-place more tea, not the 
liquid that we are accustomed to drmk, but a curious mixture 
of powdered brick-tea, salt, soda and butter, of a better taste 
than one would suppose. So on this occasion it was long 
after noon when we had crossed the pass, and when the day 
began to fade in a drenching cloud of rain, the Tibetans 
found shelter in some caves, and persuaded us to camp. An 
uneven space among rocks just held our tents ; we dined 
off the fragrant smoke of green rhododendron and soaking 
juniper, and we slept (if at aU) to the roar of boulders rolling 
in the torrent-bed a few feet from where we lay. 

But it was well that we had not stumbled on in the dark. 
In the morning light we walked over grassy " alps " still 
yellow with sweet-scented primulas, and the steep sides of 
the narrowing valley below were bright with roses, pink and 
white spireeas, yeUow berberis and many other flowers. 
Soon it became evident that we were -approaching a place of 
more than ordinary holiness ; every stone had its prayer-flag, 
and the tops of trees, which began to appear here, were also 
decorated. Great boulders were defaced with the familiar 
words engraven on them in letters many feet in height. In 
a little while we came to a small wooden hut filled from 
floor to roof wdth thousands of little flags brought there by 
pUgrims ; the posts and Imtel of the door were smeared with 



NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 287 

dabs of butter, and the crevices of the walls were fiUed with 
little bunches of fresh-cut flowers. Outside was a rude altar 
made of stones from the river-bed, where a Lama was burning 
incense and chanting prayers. 

We passed through the village, a tiny hamlet of a dozen 
houses, and came to the celebrated temple of Lapche. A 
square stone waU, about 60 yards each way, on the inner 
side of which are sheds to shelter pilgrims, encloses a roughly 
paved courtyard where stands the temple, a plain square 
building of stone with a pagoda-like roof surmounted by a 
burnished copper ornament. There is nothing remarkable 
about the temple excepting the hundred and more prayer 
wheels set in the wall at a convenient height for the pilgrims 
to turn as they walk round the buUding. Inside are countless 
Buddhas, the usual smeU of smoky butter-lamps, and an 
effigy of the saint. The whole place is dirty and dishevelled, 
in the supposed care of one old woman and a monk, and 
nobody would believe that this is one of the most famous 
places in the country and that every year hundreds of 
Buddhists from India and from all parts of Tibet make 
pilgrimage to it. 

Mila Respa, poet and saint and (it is said) a Tibetan 
incarnation of Buddha, spent his earthly life in this mountain 
vaUey, living under rocks and in caves, where the faithful 
may see his footprints even now. He seems to have been 
not lacking in a sense of humour. He was walking with a 
disciple on the mountain one day, when they found an old 
yak's horn lying in the path. Mila Respa told the disciple 
to pick it up and take it with him. The disciple refused, 
sajdng that it was useless, and passed on without noticing 
that the saint himself had picked up the horn and put it 
under his cloak. Soon afterwards a mighty storm descended 
on them — whether or not it was caused by the saint is not 
known. He took the horn from under his cloak and crept 
inside it. " Now," said he, when he was safely sheltered 
from the rain, " you see that nothing in the world is useless." 

We stayed for two days at Lapche Kang, picking flowers 



288 NATURAL HISTORY 

and enjoying the beauty of the place, in spite of the clouds 
which swept up from the South and filled the valley from 
early morning onwards. To a naturahst it was a tantahzing 
place ; there were many unfamiliar birds that we had not 
seen in Tibet, but in such a sacred place I dared not offend 
the people by taking life, and I even had some qualms in 
catching butterflies. One of the prettiest sights I saw was 
a waU-creeper, like a big crimson-winged moth, fluttering 
over the temple buildings in search for insects. 

Having found Lapche Kang, where no European had 
before penetrated, and having placed it on the map, our next 
object was to go over the ranges Eastward to the Rongshar 
VaUey, the head of which had been visited by members of 
the Expedition a few weeks earher. This was accomplished 
in two long days of rather confused climbing over two passes 
of about 17,000 feet, crossing sundry glaciers and stumbling 
over moraines, and nearly always in an impenetrable fog. 
Our views of mountains were none at all, but the beauty 
of the flowers at our feet was almost compensation for that. 
Among many stand out two in particular, both of them 
primulas. One was ivory-white, about the bigness of a 
cowslip, with wide open bells and the most delicate primrose 
scent : the other carried from four to six bells, each as big 
as a lady's thimble, of deep azure blue and lined inside with 
frosted silver. * 

As we went down the last steep slope into the Rongshar 
Valley, the clouds parted for a few moments, and across the 
valley and incredibly high above our heads appeared the 
summit of Gauri-Sankar,f one of the most beautiful of 
Himalayan peaks, blazing in the afternoon sun. It was a 
glorious vision, but it rather added to our regret for the views 
of peaks that we might have seen. The next morning at 
daybreak the whole mountain was clear from its foot in the 

* Both of these are new species ; the former has been described as 
Primula Buryana, the latter as P. Wollastonii. 

■f Gauri-Sankar (23,440 ft.) was for many years confused with Mount 
Everest, which is etill misnamed Gauri-Sankar in German maps. 




Gauri-Sankar. 



NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 289 

Rongshar River (10,000 feet) up through woods of pine 
and birch, to rhododendrons and rocks, and so by a knife- 
edged ridge of ice to its glistening summit. It recalled to 
me the Bietsch-horn more than any other Alpine peak, a 
Bietsch-hom on the giant scale and seemingly impassable 
to man. 

The vaUey of the Rongshar, Kke the Nyenyam and other 
vaUeys we had visited, though within the Tibetan border, 
is really more Nepalese in character. The climate is much, 
damper than in Tibet, as one can see by the wisps of Lichen 
on the trees and the greenness of the vegetation far up the 
mountain sides, especially at this season of monsoon, when 
the South wind blows dense clouds of drenching moisture 
through the gorges. Like those vaUeys the Rongshar is 
sacred, which is inconvenient when the question of food 
supply is pressing. The people had cattle and flocks of 
goats ; they would sell us an ox or a goat, but we must not 
T?i11 it within the valley, or Ul-luck would come to them. 
They were a friendly and good-tempered people, much given 
to rehgion. In many places we had seen prayer wheels 
worked by water, but here for the first time we saw one 
driven by the wind. Though it does not do much work at 
night, it probably steals a march on the water wheels in 
winter, when the streams are frozen. 

We walked up the vaUey of Rongshar, which in July 
should be called the VaUey of Roses ; on all sides were bushes, 
trees almost, of the deep red single rose in bloom, and the 
air was fiUed with the scent of them. After a journey of 
about 150 miles through unknown country we came to the 
village of Tazang, which had been visited by some of us 
before. Thence over the Phiise La (the Pass of Small Rats) 
we came into real Tibet again, and so in a few days to the 
Eastern side of Mount Everest. 



CHAPTER XIX 
NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 

To a naturalist Tibet offers considerable difficulties : it 
is true that in some places animals are so tame that they 
will almost eat out of your hand ; for instance, in the 
Rongbuk Valley the burrhel (wild sheep) come to the cells 
of the hermits for food, and in every village the ravens and 
rock-doves are as fearless as the sparrows ia London. But 
against this tameness must be set the Buddhist religion, 
which forbids the people from taking life, so that, whereas 
in most countries the native children are the best friends 
of the naturahst, in Tibet we got no help from them what- 
ever. Also, in order to avoid giving possible offence, we 
were careful to refrain from shooting in the neighbourhood 
of monasteries and villages, and that was a very severe 
drawback, as birds congregated principally about the culti- 
vated lands near villages. Another difficulty we found was 
in catching small mammals, which showed the greatest 
reluctance to enter our traps, whatever the bait might be. 
One species only, a vole {Phaiomys leucurus), was trapped ; 
aU the others were shot, and that involved a considerable 
expenditure of time in waiting motionless beside burrows. 
In spite of these disadvantages we made considerable 
collections of mammals and birds, and we brought back a 
large number of dried plants and seeds, many of which it 
is hoped will hve in the gardens of this country. 

Crossing over the Jelep La from Silddm into Tibet in 
the latter part of May we found the country at 12,000 feet 
and upwards at the height of spring. The open level spaces 
were carpeted with a dark purple and yellow primiila (P. 
gammieana), a deUcate little yeUow flower [Lloydia tibetica) 

290 




LowKK Kama-chu. 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 291 

and many saxifrages^ The steep hillsides were ablaze 
vsdth the flowers of the large rhododendrons (R. thomsoni, 
R. falconeri, R. aucklandi) and the smaller Rhododendron 
campylocarpum, an almost infinite variety of colours.* A 
descent through woods of pines, oaks and walnuts brought 
us to the picturesque village of Richengong, in the Chumbi 
VaUey, where we found house-martins nesting under the 
eaves of the houses. Following up the Ammo Chu, in its 
lower course between 9,000 and 12,000 feet, we found the 
valley gay with pink and white spiraeas and cotoneasters, 
red and white roses, yellow berberis, a fragrant white-flowered 
bog-myrtle, anemones and white clematis. Dippers, wag- 
tails and the white-capped redstart were the commonest 
birds along the river-banks. From Yatung we made an 
excursion of a few miles up the Kambu Valley, and there 
found a very beautiful Enkianthus {Enkianthus himalaicus), 
a small tree about 15 feet high, with clusters of pink and 
white flowers ; in the autumn the leaves turn to a deep 
copper red. 

At about 11,000 feet is a level terrace, the plain of 
Lingmatang, where the stream meanders for two or three 
mfles through a lovely meadow covered in the spring with 
a tiny pink primula (P. minutissima) : it looks a perfect 
trout stream, but what fish there are {ScMzopygopsis stoUczae) 
are small and few in number. 

Between 11,000 and 13,000 feet you ascend through 
mixed woods of pine, larch, birch and juniper with an 
imdergrowth of rhododendrons and mountain ash. The 
larches here have a much less formal habit of growth than 
those of this country, and in the autumn they turn to a 
brilliant golden colour. The berries of the mountain ash, 
when ripe, are white and very conspicuous. At this altitude 
Rhododendron cinndbarinum reaches its best growth, in 

* We marked many of the best-flowering specimens with the intention 
of coUectiag their seeds on our retm-n ia the autumn. Unfortunately when 
we came over the Jelep La in October it was ia a heavy snowstorm which 
made collecting impossible. 



292 MOUNT EVEREST 

bushes of from 8 to 10 feet in height, and the flowers have 
a very wide range of colour. In the woods hereabouts 
may often be heard and sometimes seen the blood pheasant, 
and here Hves also — ^but we did not see it — ^the Tibetan 
stag. 

At about 13,000 feet at the end of May you find a yellow 
primula covering the ground more thickly than cowshps in 
this country ; the air is laden with the scent of it, and 
growing with it is a pretty little heath-hke flower {Cassiope 
fastigiata) with snow-white bells. Here and there is seen 
the large blue poppy {Meconopsis sp.) and a white anemone 
with five or six flowers on one stem. Soon the trees get 
scantier and scantier, pines disappear altogether and then 
birches and willows and junipers, until only dwarf rhododen- 
drons {B. setosum) are left, covering the hillsides like purple 
heather. 

In a few miles the country changes in character 
completely, and you come out on to the open plain of Phari. 
Here at 14,000 feet we saw the common cuckoo sitting on 
a telegraph wire and caUing vigorously. This is Tibet 
proper, and henceforward you may travel for scores of miles 
and hardly see any plant more than a few inches high. In 
some places a httle trumpet-shaped purple flower {Incarvillea 
younghushandii) is fairly common, it hes prone on the sand 
with its leaves usually buried out of sight ; and as we went 
Westward we found a dwarf blue iris (/. tenuifolia). Animals 
are few and far between : the Kiang, the wild ass of Tibet, 
is occasionally seen in small parties ; they are very 
conspicuous on the open plams m fuU dayhght, but almost 
invisible at dusk. The Tibetan gazelle is fairly numerous, 
and it is not uncommon to see one or two in company with 
a flock of native sheep and taking no notice of the shepherd, 
but when a stranger tries to approach they are ofi like a 
flash. Another animal of the plains is the Tibetan antelope 
(Pantholops), which is found in large numbers a httle to the 
North of the region we visited, but the only signs of it we 
saw were the horns used as supporting prongs for the long 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 293 

muzzle-loading guns of the Tibetans. The Tibetan antelope 
was probably the Unicorn described by the French priest 
Hue m 1845. 

The only mammals that are commonly seen on the plains 
are the small mouse-hares or pikas {Ochotona), which live 
in colonies on the less stony parts of the plain, where their 
burrows often caused our ponies to stumble ; they scurry 
off to their holes at your approach, but if you wait a few 
moments you will see heads peeping out at you from aU 
sides. These engaging little creatures have been called 
" Whistling Hares," but of the three species which we found 
none was ever heard to utter a sound of any kind. The 
Tibetan name for them is Phiise. It is interesting to record 
that from one specimen I took three fleas of two species, 
both of them new to science. 

Birds are few on these stony wastes, larks, wheatears 
and snow-finches being the commonest. Elwes' shore-lark 
was found feeding young birds at the beginning of June, 
when the ground was not yet free from snow, and the song 
of the Tibetan skylark, remarkably Uke that of our own 
skylark, was heard over every patch of native cultivation. 

A small spiny hzard {Phrynocephalus thedbaldi) is common 
on the plains and on the lower hills up to 17,000 feet ; it 
Hves in shallow burrows on the sand and under stones. 

Rising out of the plain North of the Himalayas are 
ranges of rounded Umestone hiUs, 18,000 to 19,000 feet high, 
running roughly East and West. The hiUs between Phari 
and Khamba Dzong are the home of the big sheep {Ovis 
hodgsoni), which are occasionally seen in small companies. 
There are many ranges to the West of Khamba Dzong, 
apparently well suited to this animal, but it was never seen. 
On the slopes of these hills are found partridges {Perdix 
hodgsonice), and in the ravines are seen Alpine choughs, 
rock-doves {Columha rupestris) and crag-martins. Once or 
twice at night we heard the shriek of the great eagle-owl, 
but the bird was not seen. 

At rare intervals on these plains one meets with small 



294 MOUNT EVEREST 

rivers, tributaries of the Arun River ; along their banks is 
usually more grass than elsewhere, and here the wandering 
Tibetan herdsmen bring their yaks to graze. The wild yak 
is not found anywhere in this region. It might be supposed 
that so hairy an animal as the yak would become dirty 
and unkempt. Actually they are among the cleanest of 
creatures, and they may often be seen scraping holes in soft 
banks where they roU and kick and comb themselves into 
silky condition. The usual coloiu- of the domesticated yak 
is black, more rarely a yellowish brown. A common variety 
has a white face and white tail. The calves are born in 
the spring, late April or early May. 

Here and there the rivers overflow their banks and form 
lakes or meres, which in the summer are the haunt of 
innumerable wild-fowl : bar-headed geese and redshanks 
nest here, families of ruddy shelducks (the Brahminy duck 
of India) and garganey teal are seen swimming on the pools. 
Overhead fly sand-martins, brown-headed guUs, common 
terns and white-tailed eagles. Near one of these lakes one 
day I watched at close distance a red fox stalking a pair 
of bar-headed geese, a most interesting sight, and had the 
satisfaction of saving the bu'ds by firing a shot in the air 
with my small collecting gmi just as the fox was about to 
pounce on his intended victim. 

Tinki Dzong is a veritable bird sanctuary. The Dzong 
itself is a rambling fort covering a dozen or so of acres, and 
about its waUs nest hundreds of birds — ravens, magpies, 
red-billed choughs, tree-sparrows, hoopoes, Indian redstarts, 
Hodgson's pied wagtails and rock-doves. In the shallow 
pool outside the Dzong were swimming bar-headed geese 
and ruddy shelducks, with famflies of young birds, all as 
tame as domestic poultry. A pair of white storks was seen 
here in June, but they did not appear to be breeding. In 
the autumn the lakes m this neighbourhood are the resort of 
large packs of widgeon, gadwall and pochard. The Jongpen 
explained to us that it was the particular wish of the Dalai 
Lama that no birds should be molested here, and for several 




JUNU'ERS I.N THE KAMA VaLLEY. 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 295 

years two lamas lived at Tinki, whose special business it 
was to protect the birds. 

Crossing over a pass of about 17,000 feet (Tinki La), 
the slopes gay with a little purple and white daphne {Stellera), 
said by the natives to be poisonous to animals, we came to 
a plain of a different character, mUes of blown sand heaped 
here and there into enormous dunes, on which grows a yellow- 
flowering gorse. Here, near Chushar, we first met with 
rose-fiinches (Severtzoff's and Przjewalsk's) and the brown 
ground-chough {Podoces humilis) : the last-named is a 
remarkable-looking bird, which progresses by a series of 
apparently top-heavy bounds, at the end of which it turns 
round to steady itself ; in the middle of June it was feeding 
its young in nests at the bottom of deep holes in sand or old 
mud walls. 

Following up the valley of the Bhong-chu we crossed 
the river by a stone bridge near Shekar Dzong. Here we 
found a colony of white-rumped swifts nesting high up in 
cliffs and ruddy shelducks nesting in holes among the loose 
boulders below. Occasionally we saw a pair of black-necked 
cranes, which are said by the natives to breed near lakes 
a little to the North, but we had no opportunity of visiting 
them. The slopes of the hUls facing South were covered 
with a very pretty shrub (Sophora) with blue and white 
flowers and delicate silvery grey leaves, and among the loose 
stones a small clematis (C. orientalis) was just beginningHo 
appear. Groups of small trees, like a sea buckthorn, growing 
15 to 20 feet high, indicate a gradual change in the climate 
as you go Westwards. Here also for the first time we began 
to find a few butterflies, of the genera Lyccena and Colias. 

At Tingri we found ourselves in a large plain about 20 miles 
long by 12 wide ; a large part of the plain is saturated with 
soda and is almost uninhabited by bird or beast. In our three 
weeks' stay at Tingri we collected several mammals, including 
a new subspecies of hamster {Cricetulus alticola tihetanus) 
and a number of birds. This was the only place where we 
ever received any natural history specimen from a Tibetan. 



296 MOUNT EVEREST 

A woman came into our camp one day and, after making 
certaia that she was not observed by any of the villagers, 
produced from a sack a weU-worn domestic cat's skin stuffed 
with grass and a freshly IdUed stoat [Mustela longstaffi). 
The skin of the stoat is highly prized by the Tibetans, who 
say that it has the property of restoring faded turquoises 
to their former beauty. About the houses of the village 
were nesting tree-sparrows, hoopoes, rock-doves and ravens, 
the latter so tame that they hardly troubled to get out of 
the way of passers-by. In a tower of the old fort lived a 
pair of the Eastern little owl {Athene hactriana), which appeared 
to Hve principally on voles. On the plain the commonest 
birds were the long-billed calandra lark, Brook's short-toed 
lark, the Tibetan skylark, and Elwes' shore-lark, aU of which 
were found with eggs, probably the second brood of the 
season, at the beginning of July. The nest of the yellow- 
headed wagtail, rare at Tingri, was found with eggs, and 
Blanford's snow-finch was found feeding its young more 
than 2 feet down the burrow of a pika {Ochotona curzonice). 
The common tern and the greater sand-plover nested on the 
shingly islands in the river. 

Plants at Tingri were few and inconspicuous: a small 
yellow cistus, the dwarf blue iris, a small aster and a curious 
hairy, claret-coloured flower {Thermopsis) were the most notice- 
able. Along the rivers which traverse the plain is very good 
grazing for the large flocks of sheep and goats of the 
Tibetans ; the sheep are small and are grown entirely for wool. 
By a simple system of irrigation a large area of land near 
Tingri has been brought into cultivation. The principal 
crop here is barley, which constitutes the chief food of the 
people ; they also grow a large radish or small turnip, the 
young leaves of which are excellent food. The animals 
usually used for ploughing are a cross between the yak and 
ordinary domestic cattle, called by the Tibetans " zoh " ; 
they are more powerful than the yak and are excellent 
transport animals. We found barley grown in many districts 
up to 15,000 feet — it does not always ripen — and in the 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 297 

valley of the Dzakar Chu near its junction with the Arun 
River is a small area where wheat is grown at an altitude of 
about 12,800 feet. Peas are grown in the Arim Valley near 
Kharta, where they ripen in September and are pounded 
into meal for winter food of cattle as well as of the Tibetans 
themselves. Mustard is grown in the lower valleys below 
14,000 feet. It is to be regretted that we did not bring 
back specimens of these hardy cereals. 

During the course of an excursion of about three weeks 
in July to the West and South of Tingri we covered a large 
tract of unexplored country, much of which is more Nepalese 
than Tibetan in character. Going over the Thung La we 
found numerous butterflies of the genus Parnassus, and 
near the top of the pass (18,000 feet) we found for the first 
time the beautiful little blue Gentiana amcena ; it is not 
easy to see untU you are right over it, when it looks Hke a 
little square blue china cup ; some of the flowers are as 
much as an inch in diameter. Here also was just beginning 
to flower the dwarf blue poppy {Meconopsis horridula), 
which grows in a small compact clump, 6 to 8 inches high, 
with as many as sixteen flowers and buds on one plant ; 
the flowers are nearly 2 inches across and of a heavenly blue. 
In this region, too, we met for the first time marmots, which 
Uve in large colonies at about 16,000 feet ; the Himalayan 
is larger than the Alpine marmot, and it has a longish tail 
which it whisks sharply from side to side when it is alarmed ; 
it has a twittering cry, curiously hke that of a bird of prey. 

Continuing down the valley of the Po Chu to Nyenyam, 
we found several birds that we had not met hitherto, notably 
the brown accentor, Himalayan tree-pipit, Adams's snow- 
finch, the Himalayan greenfinch and Tickell's willow-warbler. 
At about 12,500 feet we first found the white-backed dove 
{Columba leuconota), which inhabits the deep gorges of the 
Himalayas but does not extend out on to the Tibetan plain. 
Beside the big torrent that flows South from Gosainthan 
we saw a pair of that curious curlew-like bird, the ibis-biU 
{Ibidorhynchus struthersi) ; it was evident that they had 



298 MOUNT EVEREST 

eggs or young on an island in the torrent, at about 13,800 
feet, but unfortunately it was impossible to reach it. 

The most conspicuous flowers in this region were a little 
bushy cistus with golden flowers the size of a half-crown, 
a dwarf rhododendron {R. lanatum) with hairy leaves, a 
white potentilla with red centre, which carpeted the drier 
hillsides, a white gentian {G. rdbusta), and a very remarkable 
louse-wort {Pedicularis megalantha) with two quite distinct 
forms — one purple, the other yellow. 

Crossing a pass to the East of Nyenyam, we camped on 
a level spot covered densely with white primulas (P. Buryana) 
six to eight inches high ; an inch or two of snow fell durmg 
the night, and so white are these flowers that it was difficult 
to see them against the snow. Near the top of another 
pass we foimd at about the same altitude, 15,000 feet, 
another primula (P. Wollastonii) with three to six bells 
on each stem, the size of a small thimble, of a deep 
blue colour, and lined inside with frosted silver. In the 
moister vaUeys hereabouts a pretty pink-flowered polygonum 
(P. vacciniifolium) rambled everywhere over the rocks and 
boulders. The Rongshar VaUey in July was chiefly notable 
for the large gooseberry bushes, 10 to 12 feet high, and for 
the profusion of red and white roses. A waU-creeper, the 
only one we saw in Tibet, was seen creeping about the temple 
at Lapche, a few miles to the West of Rongshar. 

From the beginning of August our headquarters were 
at Kiiarta in the Arun Valley, about 20 miles East of Mount 
Everest, and from there we made excursions South to the 
Kama VaUey, and West up the KLharta VaUey in the direction 
of Everest. Kharta itself is curiously situated as regards 
chmate : the wide dry vaUey of the Ai'un narrows abruptly 
and the river passes into a deep gorge, where it falls rapidly 
at a rate of about 200 feet to the mile on its way to Nepal. 
The heavy monsoon clouds roll up the gorge to its mouth, 
where they are cut off sharply, so that withm a mile you 
may pass from the dry chmate of Tibet to the moist, steamy 
air of a Nepalese character, with its luxuriant vegetation. 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 299 

In the immediate neighbourhood of Kharta were several 
birds we had not met elsewhere, notably Prince Henry's 
laughing thrush {Trochalopterum henrici), which is very much 
venerated as a sacred bird by the Tibetans, the Central 
Asian blackbird, almost indistinguishable from our blackbird 
except by its voice, the sohtary thrush, Indian brown turtle- 
dove, and a meadow-bunting {Emberiza godlewskii), probably 
a migrant from the North. 

Several species of smaU gentians and two very fragrant 
onosmas were flowering in August, and in this place Clematis 
orientalis attains its best growth, clambering over the trees 
and the houses of the natives ; the flower of this clematis 
has a very wide range of colour from an apricot yellow to 
almost black. About the houses are often planted junipers 
and poplars, and it was about 10 miles from Kharta that 
we saw a poplar nearly 40 feet in girth, which we were informed 
was five hundred years old. 

A few miles to the south of Kharta is a valley filled with 
a dozen or so of small lakes or tarns, inhabited apparently 
only by tadpoles {Rana plesJcei) ; no fish could be seen. 
Not far from here was discovered an interesting toad of a 
new species {Gophophryne alticola). Growing about the 
lakes were large beds of purple and yellow iris (/. sibirica, 
near) ; the steeper banks were blue with a very striking 
campanula {Cyananthus pedunculatus) ; growing out from 
among the dwarf rhododendrons in dry places were taU 
spikes of a claret-coloured meconopsis, now going to seed 
— some spikes had as many as twenty seed-pods ; and 
in the moist places beside the lakes and streams was the 
taU yeUow primula (P. elongata), growing to a height of over 
30 inches. 

Ascendhig from the lakes to the Chog La we saw a small 
black rat amongst the huge boulders of a moraine ; it appeared 
to be a very active Little animal, and though four or five 
were seen at different times in similar situations we failed 
to secure a specimen. Near the Chog La we found the snow- 
partridge {Lerwa lerwa), and one was shot out of a flock of 



300 MOUNT EVEREST 

very beautiful blue birds — Hodgson's grandala. Another 
very handsome bird in this region is the red-breasted rose- 
finch, which is found up to 18,000 feet. Descending from 
the Chog La towards the Kama Valley we found at 16,000 
feet the giant rhubarb {Rheum ndbile), and at 14,000 feet 
we picked quantities of the wild edible rhubarb. A little 
lower down we came to large blue scabius, 3 to 4 feet high, 
a dark blue monkshood and quantities of the taU yellow 
poppy. Rhododendrons, birches and junipers begia at 
about 13,500 feet, and at 12,000 feet the junipers are the 
predominating tree ; they are of immense size, upwards of 
20 feet in girth and from 120 to 150 feet in height and of 
a very even and perfect growth. Here we met with the 
Sikkim black tit {Parus heavani), and a little lower down 
among the firs {Abies webbiana) we came upon bullfinches 
{Pyrrhula erythrocephala). At 11,000 feet I saw a langur 
monkey {Semnopithecus entellus), the only monkey I saw 
in Tibet, Excepting one sohtary bat, the only other mammal 
we saw in this vaUey was another species of pika {OcJiotona 
roylei nepalensis), which appears here to be confined to a 
zone between the altitudes of 12,000 and 14,000 feet ; it 
is not found in dry valleys. 

Among the trees in the lower Kama VaUey grow many 
parnassias, a tall green fritillaria, a handsome red swertia 
and a very sweet-scented pink orchis. We found the tubers 
(but not the flowers) of an arum, which the Tibetans coUect 
and make of it a very unpalatable bread. We went down 
through large rhododendrons, magnohas, bamboos, alders, 
sycamores, aU draped in long wisps of hchen {Usnea), to the 
junction of the Kama with the Arun River, where we found 
ourselves in the region of the blue pine. The lower part 
of the Kama VaUey is unpleasantly fuU of leeches, and in 
the course of an excursion to the Popti La (14,000 feet), 
one of the principal passes from Tibet to Sikkim, we were 
astonished to find them very numerous and active at aji 
altitude of 12,000 feet. At our low-altitude camps m this 
valley hundreds of moths were attracted by the hght of our 




Forest in the Kama Valley. 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 301 

camp fire, and a few came to the dim candle lamps in our 
tents. A collector who came here with a proper equipment 
could not faU to make a large collection of moths. 

Proceeding up the Kharta Valley in the beginning of 
September we found that most of the roses and rhododendrons 
had gone to seed, but some of the gentians, particularly 
Gentiana ornata, were at their best. Near our camp at 
17,000 feet, along the edges of streams, a very handsome 
gentian {G. nubigena) with half a dozen flowers growing on 
a single stem was very conspicuous, and growing with it 
was an aromatic Uttle purple and yeUow aster {A. hetero- 
chceta) ; in the same place was a bright yeUow senecio (;S^. 
arnicoides) with shining, glossy leaves. A curious dark blue 
dead-nettle {Dracocephalum speciosum) was found on dry 
ground at the same altitude. In the stony places grew up 
to 19,000 feet the dwarf blue meconopsis mentioned above, 
and many saxifrages, notably a very small white one {S. 
umbellulata). On the steeper rocks from 16,000 feet to the 
snow-Hne (roughly 20,000 feet) were found edelweiss (Leonto- 
podium) of three species. Very noticeable at these altitudes 
are the curious saussureas, large composites packed with 
cotton wool ; if you open one of them on the coldest day, 
even when it is covered with snow, you find it quite warm 
inside, and often a bumble bee wiU come buzzing out. 

Another very interesting plant at 17,000 to 18,000 feet 
is a dwarf blue hairy delphinium {D. brunnoneanum) with 
a strong smell. The Tibetans dry the flowers of this plant 
and use them as a preventive against lice. This has its 
disadvantages, for when a Tibetan dies his body is undertaken 
by the professional butcher, who cuts it up and exposes it 
on the hnis to be disposed of by the vultures and wolves. 
A body tainted with the delphinium flowers is unpalatable 
to the scavengers, and it is known that a man must have 
been wicked in life whose body is rejected by the vultures 
and wolves. 

The smallest rhododendrons (R. setosum and R. lepidotum) 
disappear before 19,000 feet, after which vegetation is almost 



302 MOUNT EVEREST 

non-existent. A few grasses and mosses are still found to 
20,000 feet, and the highest plant we found was a small 
arenaria {A. musciformis), which grows in flat cushions a 
few inches wide up to 20,100 feet. 

Mammals in the upper Klharta Valley are not numerous. 
A pika of a new species {Ochotona wollastoni) is found from 
15,000 to 20,000 feet, and a new vole [Phaiomys everesti) 
was foimd at 17,000 feet. The small black rat previously- 
seen was here too, and an unseen mouse entered our tents 
and ate our food at 20,000 feet. Fox and hare were both 
seen above 18,000 feet, and undoubted tracks of them on 
the Kharta Glacier at 21,000 feet. Wolves were seen about 
19,000 feet, and those tracks seen in snow at 21,500 feet, 
which gave rise to so much discussion, were almost certainly 
those of a wolf. Burrhel were fairly common between 17,000 
and 19,000 feet, and we found their droppings on stones 
at 20,000 feet. 

Birds of several species were found from 17,000 feet 
upwards. The Tibetan snow-partridge {Tetraogallus tibetanus) 
is common in large parties up to the snow-line. Dippers 
{Cinclus cashmiriensis) are found in the streams up to 
17,000 feet, and at about the same altitude Hves in the 
big boulders of moraines a small and very dark wren, which 
is almost certainly new, but only one immature bird was 
brought home. Snow-finches and the Eastern alpine accentor 
appeared to be resident up to the snow-line. Several 
migrating birds were seen in September at 17,000 feet and 
above, among them Temminck's stint, painted snipe, pin- 
tailed snipe, house-martin and several pipits. More than once 
at night the cry of migrating waders was heard, curlew 
being unmistakable, and (I think) bar-tailed godwit. 

Our camps at 17,000 feet and at 20,000 feet were visited 
daUy by lammergeier, raven, red-billed chough, alpine 
chough and black-eared kite, and I saw twice a hoopoe fly 
over the Kharta Glacier at about 21,000 feet ; a small pale 
hawk flew overhead at the same time. The highest bird 
seen was a lammergeier (bearded vulture) ; when I was 



NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 303 

taking photographs from our camp on the Lhakpa La (22,350 
feet) I saw one of these birds come sailing over the top of 
the North peak of Everest and apparently high above the 
peak, probably at an altitude of not less than 25,000 feet.* 

* Detailed accounts of the collections made will be found : Mammals, 
Annals and Magazine of Nat. Hist., Feb. 1922. Birds, Ibis., July, 1922. 
Insects, Annals and Magazine of Nat. Hist., May and June, 1922. 



CHAPTER XX 

AN APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 

By Peofessor NORMAN COLLIE, F.R.S. 
President of the Alpine Club 

The chance of wandering into the wild places of the 
earth is given to few. But those who have once visited 
the Himalaya will never forget either the magnificence or 
the beauty of that immense moimtain land, whether it 
be the vaUey country that lies between the great snow- 
covered ranges and the plains, where wonderful forests, 
flowers, clear streams and lesser peaks form a fitting guard 
to the mighty snow-peaks that he beyond, or the great peaks 
themselves, that can be seen far away to the North, as one 
approaches through the foot-hiUs that lead up to them. 
The huge snow-covered giants may be a week's journey 
away, they may be far more, yet when seen through the 
clear air of the hills, perhaps 100 miles distant, they look 
immense, inaccessible, remote and lonely. But as one 
approaches nearer and nearer to them, they ever grow more 
splendid, ghstening white in the mid- day sun, rose-red at 
dawn, or a golden orange at simset, with faint opalescent 
green shadows that deepen as the daylight fails, till when 
night comes they stand far up in the sky, pale and ghostly 
against the ghttering stars. Those who have been fortunate 
enough to see these things, know the fascination they 
exert. It is the call of the great spaces and of the 
great mountains. It is a caU that mocks at the song of 
the Lotus-eaters of old, it is more insidious than the Siren's 
caU, and it is a caU that, once heard, is never forgotten. 

One may be contented and busy with the multitudinous 

304 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 305 

little events of ordinary civilised life, but a chance pkrase 
or some allusion wakes the memory of the wild mountain 
lands, and one feels sick with desire for the open spaces 
and the old trails. The dreams of the wanderer are far 
more real than most of the happenings that make up the 
average man's life. It may be the memory of some desolate 
peaks set against an angry sky, or of islands set in summer 
seas, or some grim fight with deserts of endless sands, or 
with tropical forests that have held their growth for a thousand 
years; it may be the memory of rushing rivers, or lakes 
set in wild woods where the beavers build their houses, or 
sunsets over great oceans — the speU binds one, the present 
does not exist, one is back again on the old trail — " The Red 
Gods have called us out, and we must go." 

There is no part of the world where lofty mountains 
exist at aU comparable with the Himalaya. Elsewhere 
the highest is Aconcagua, 23,060 feet. But in the Himalaya 
there are over eighty peaks that tower above 24,000 feet, 
probably twenty above 26,000 feet, six above 27,000 feet, 
and the highest of aU, Mount Everest, is 29,141 feet. 

The huge range of mountains, of which the Himalaya 
forms the chief part, is by far the greatest mountain range 
in the world. Starting to the North of Afghanistan, it 
sweeps Eastwards, without a break, to the confines of China, 
over 2,000 miles away. Yet in this vast world of mountains, 
very few have been cHmbed. For many years to come the 
Himalaya wUl provide sport for the mountaineer when most 
of the other mountain ranges of the world will have been 
exhausted, as far as exploration and new ascents are 
concerned. 

Mountaineering is a sport of which Enghshmen should 
be proud ; for they were the first really to pursue it as a 
pastime. The Alpine Club was the first mountaineering 
club, and if one inquires into the records of climbing and 
discovery amongst the mountains of the world, one usually 
finds that it was an Englishman who led the way. It is 
the Englishman's love of sport for its own sake that has 



306 MOUNT EVEREST 

enticed him on to battle with the dangers and difficulties 
that are offered with such a lavish hand by the great 
mountains. 

As a sport, mountaineering is second to none. It is 
the finest mental and physical tonic that a man can take. 
Whether it be the grim determination of desperate struggles 
with difficult rocks, or with ice, or whether it be the sight 
of range after range of splendid peaks basking in the sunshine, 
or of mists half hiding the black precipices, or the changing 
fairy colours of a sunrise, or the subtle curves of the wind- 
blown snow, aU these are good for one. They produce a 
sane mind in a sane body. The joy of Uving becomes a 
real and a great joy, aU is right with the world, and life 
flies on golden wings. It is, of course, true that there are 
many other beautiful and health-giving places besides the 
mountains. The great expanses of the prairie lands, the 
forests, the seas set with lonely islands, and in England the 
downs and the homely lanes and villages nesthng amongst 
woods, with clear streams wandermg through the pastures 
where the cattle feed — all these are good ; but the mountains 
give something more. There things are larger, man is more 
alone, one feels that one is much nearer to Nature, one is 
not held down by an artificial civilisation. And although 
the life may be more strenuous (for Nature can be savage 
at times, as weU as beautiful), and the struggle may be hard, 
yet the battle is the more worth winning. 

Nowhere in any mountain land does Nature offer the 
good things of the wUds with more prodigal hand than in 
the Himalaya. On the Southern slopes, coming down from 
the great snow-peaks, are the finest river gorges in the world, 
wonderful forests of mighty trees, open alps nesthng high up 
at the head of the valleys, that look out over great expanses 
of the lesser ranges ; and as one ascends higher and higher, 
the views of the great peaks draped m everlastmg snow, 
changing perpetually as the clouds and mists form and 
re-form over them, astonish one by their magnificence. 

All things that the Himalaya gives are big things, and 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 307 

now that the mountaineer has conquered the lesser ranges, 
he turns to the Himalaya, where the peaks stand head and 
shoulders above aU others. Up to the present, however, 
owing to the difficulties of distance and size, none of the 
greater peaks have been cKmbed. 

In climbing the great peaks of the Himalaya, the 
difficulties are far greater than those of less lofty ranges. 
On most of the highest the mere climbing presents such 
difficulties that it would be fooKsh to attempt their ascent. 
Thousands of feet of steep rock or ice guard their sumrnits. 
Unless chmbing above 24,000 feet is moderately easy, and 
no strenuous work is required, it could not be accomplished. 
For in the rarefied air at high altitudes there is insufficient 
oxygen to promote the normal oxidation of bodily tissue. 
Above 20,000 feet a cubic foot of air contains less than half 
the amount of oxygen that it does at sea-level. As the 
whole metaboHsm of the body is kept in working order by 
the oxygen suppUed through the lungs, the obvious result 
of high altitudes is to interfere with the various processes 
occurring in the system. The combustion of bodily material 
is less, the amount of energy produced is therefore less also, 
and so capacity for work is diminished progressively as one 
ascends. 

But that one is able still to work, and work hard, at 
these altitudes is evident by the experiences of Dr. LongstafE 
and Mr. Meade. On Trisul, 23,360 feet, Dr. LongstafiE in 
ten and a half hours ascended from 17,450 feet to the summit. 
WhUst on Kamet, Mr. Meade's cooUes carried a camp up 
to 23,600 feet. Dr. KeUas also in 1920 found his ascent 
on moderately easy snow above 21,000 feet approximated 
to 600 feet per hour. All these cHmbers were, however, 
accUmatised to high altitudes. The effect on anyone making 
a baUoon or aeroplane ascent from sea-level would be different. 
Tissaudier in a balloon ascent fainted at 26,500 feet and 
on regaining consciousness found both his companions dead. 
Even on Pike's Peak, 14,109 feet, in the United States, 
many of those who go up in the railway suffer from faintness, 



308 MOUNT EVEREST 

sickness, breathlessness and general lassitude. Yet there 
are places on the earth, — the Pamirs, — where people Hve 
their lives at higher altitudes than Pike's Peak, without 
any effects of the diminished pressure being felt. They 
are acclimatised ; their bodies, being accustomed to their 
surroundings, are good working machines. 

Although it is true that at high altitudes there is less 
oxygen to breathe, the body rapidly protects itself by increas- 
ing the number of red blood corpuscles. These red corpuscles 
are the carriers of oxygen from the air to the various parts 
of the body. An increased number of carriers means an 
increase of oxygen to the body. It is just possible, therefore, 
that anyone properly acclimatised to, say, 23,000 feet would 
be able to ascend the remaining 6,000 feet, to the summit 
of Mount Everest. Moreover, if oxygen could be continuously 
suppHed to the cUmbers by adventitious aid there is little 
doubt that 29,000 feet could be reached. 

The physiological difficulties met with in ascending to 
high altitudes are doubtless of a very high order, but can 
to a certain extent be eliminated by ascending gradually, 
day after day, so as to allow the body to accommodate 
itself by degrees to the new surroiindings. 

There are, however, other difficulties that must be reckoned 
with, such as intense cold and frequent high winds. In 
any engine where loss of heat occurs, there is a corresponding 
loss of available energy. A bitterly cold wind not only 
robs one of much heat, but lowers the vitahty as well. At 
altitudes above 24,000 feet, the temperature is often arctic, 
and the thermometer may fall far below zero. On the other 
hand, the rays of the sun are intense. The ultra-violet 
rays, that are mostly cut ofE by the air at sea-level, are a 
real source of danger where there is only one-third of an 
atmosphere pressure, as in the case at the summit of Mount 
Everest. 

The mountaineer also encounters dangers in the Himalaya, 
on the same scale as the difficulties. A snow-shde on a 
British movmtain or in the Alps is an avalanche ; often in 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 309 

the Himalaya it becomes almost a convulsion of nature. 
The huge ice-fields and glaciers that hang on the upper slopes 
of the mountains, when let loose, have not hundreds of feet 
to fall, but thousands, and the wind that is thereby produced 
spreads with hurricane force over the glaciers below, on to 
which the main body of the avalanche has fallen. Sometimes 
even the broken debris wUl rush across a wide glacier. 

Rock falls also assume gigantic proportions in the 
Himalaya. But aU these dangers can be largely avoided 
by the skilled mountaineer, and he can choose routes up a 
mountain where they are not likely to occur. Some risks, 
however, must be always run, but they can be reduced to a 
minimum. 

On Mount Everest, as we now know, most of these dangers 
will be less than on any of the other very high mountains 
in the Himalaya. Also there are no difficulties in the approach 
to Mount Everest from India. In this respect it differs 
from such peaks as K'' and others. As a ride the highest 
mountains in the Himalaya always he far back from the 
plains in the main chain, beyond the foot-hills and the 
intervening ranges. To approach them from the South in 
India, weeks of travel are often necessary, up deep gorges, 
and over rivers, where it is next to impossible to take baggage 
animals. Fortunately the approach to Mount Everest by 
the route from Darjeehng to Phari Dzong and thence over 
an easy pass into Tibet avoids all these difficulties. In 
Tibet a high tableland, averaging 13,000 feet, is reached. 

Travelling in Tibet, North of the main range of the 
Himalaya, is entirely different from that on the South of 
the range. Instead of deep-cut gorges, a roUing, bare, stone- 
covered country exists, over which it is easy to take baggage 
animals, the only obstacle being the rivers that sometimes 
are not bridged, and are often swollen by the melting snow. 
From Kampa Dzong to Tingri Dzong, the base of operations 
for the Expedition, is an open country. Mount Everest lies 
40 to 50 miles South of Tingri Dzong ; the approach also is 
without difficidty. 



310 MOUNT EVEREST 

The ascent of Mount Everest was not the primary object 
of the Expedition of 1921. A mountain the size of Mount 
Everest cannot be chmbed by simply getting to it and starting 
the ascent immediately. 

A reasonable route has to be discovered to the summit ; 
which usually can only be done by a complete reconnaissance 
of the mountain. This has been admirably done, and a 
most magnificent series of photographs has been brought 
back by the members of the Expedition. 

Mount Everest consists of a huge pyramid, having three 
main aretes, the West, the South-east, and the North-east. 
It is the last, the North-east arete, that is obviously the 
easiest, being snow-covered along most of its length. Nowhere 
is it excessively steep, and nowhere are there precipices of 
rock to stop the cHmber. We now know that it can be 
reached, by means of a subsidiary ridge, from a col 23,000 
feet, the Chang La, that Hes to the north of the North-east 
arete. This col was the highest point on Mount Everest 
reached by the Expedition, and had it not been for savage 
weather a considerably higher altitude would have been 
attained ; for above the col for several thousand feet lay an 
imbroken snow-slope. 

It was only after much hard work, and over two months' 
exploration, that a route to this col was discovered. As 
is usually the case even with mountains far smaller than 
Mount Everest, it can be seen that if a point, often a long 
way below the summit, can be reached, not much farther 
difficulty will be encountered. But the puzzle is, how can 
that point be arrived at from below ? 

Quite early m the exploration of Mount Everest it was 
obvious that if the 23,000-foot col could be reached, most 
of the physical difficulties of the approach to the mountain 
would have been surmounted. But it was not so obvious 
how to wm to the col. It hes on the South-east at the head 
of the main Rongbuk Glacier ; it was therefore to this glacier 
that the mountaineers, Messrs. MaUory and BuUock, went 
from Tmgri Dzong on June 23. They spent a month exploring 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 311 

the country to the North and the West of Mount Everest 
from the Rongbuk Glacier. Much valuable information 
was accumulated. A peak, Ri-Ring, 22,520 feet, was 
chmbed and a pass on the West ridge of Moimt Everest was 
visited, from which were seen views of the South-west face 
of the great mountain and also many high peaks in Nepal. 
Unfortunately, however, no feasible route from the main 
Rongbuk Glacier to the 23,000-foot col could be found. 
The next attempt was made by leaving the Rongbuk Glacier 
and exploring the Kama Valley that flows South-east from 
Mount Everest. Here a most magnificent ice-world was 
discovered. For a chain of giant peaks running South-east 
from Mount Everest to Makalu, 27,790 feet, guards the 
whole of the South-west side of the vaUey. But as an 
approach to the North-east arete of Mount Everest this 
valley was found to be useless. From the point of view, 
however, of exploration it was most fortunate that this 
valley was visited. The photographs of Makalu and its 
satellite Chomo-Lonzo, N.^% 25,413 feet, are superb ; 
moreover the lower reaches of the Kama Valley, as it dips 
down to the deep Arun VaUey, was f uU of luxuriant vegetation, 
totally different from the wind-swept wilderness of Tibet. 

The Kharta Valley, that runs North-east from Mount 
Everest, was the next exploited, to see whether from it an 
easy approach to the North-east arete existed. But by 
this time the monsoon weather was at its worst. Days of 
rain and mist, with snow higher up, succeeded one another, 
making climbing impossible. However, towards the end of 
September a high camp at 22,500 feet was made at the head 
of the Kharta Valley. From this camp the 23,000-foot 
col, Chang La, was finally reached, by crossing the head 
of a glacier that ran to the North. Higher cHmbing was 
out of the question; a furious North-west gale lasting for 
four days drove the party off the mountain. 

The glacier mentioned above, running to the North, was 
found to be a tributary of the main Rongbuk Glacier, and 
has been named the East Rongbuk Glacier. There is no 



312 MOUNT EVEREST 

doubt that the easiest route to Chang La, the North Col, will 
not be aU the way round by the Kharta Valley, but up this 
East Rongbuk Glacier. 

Several other interesting expeditions were carried out 
by other members of the party. Colonel Howard Bury 
visited the group of five great peaks (25,202 to 26,867 feet), 
that lie about 15 mUes North-west of Mount Everest. He 
explored the Kyetrak Glacier to its summit the Khombu La, 
also crossed the Phiise La with the Rongshar Valley that 
drains down into Nepal. Later he visited another pass on 
the ridge that connects Mount Everest with Makalu. From 
this pass most interesting views of the country South of 
Mount Everest were obtained. 

Major Wheeler's and Major Morshead's map of the 
country that lies between the Himalaya and the Bramapootra 
River will be of the highest value, and the results of Dr. 
Heron's geological survey and Mr. Wollaston's collections of 
birds, beasts, insects and flowers, when they have been 
thoroughly examined, will certainly yield much new scientific 
information. The Expedition therefore has accomplished aU 
that was expected of it, and has brought back material of 
the greatest interest, from a part of the world about which 
almost nothing was known, and into which Europeans had 
never been. 

The attempt to ascend Mount Everest itself necessarily 
had to be postponed, but this year the Expedition that is 
being sent out will have for its primary object the ascent of 
the mountain. There will be easy access to the base of the 
peak from Chobuk, where a base camp wfll be estabhshed, 
and from thence a feasible route on to the summit of the 
great North-east arete has been discovered. 

Most fortunately this year General Bruce was able to 
undertake the leadership of the Expedition. His unrivalled 
experience of cKmbing in the Himalaya and particularly 
his special capacity for handling Himalayan people wiU be 
invaluable to the Expedition. Not only wiU he be able to 
organise and instil the right spirit into the coolie corps upon 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 313 

whom so much. wiU depend for ultimate success, but he will 
also be able to give much wise advice to the actual chmbers 
who are to take part in the ascent of the mountain. 

Moreover, with his long experience of dealuig with Asiatics 
he can be trusted to deal with the Tibetan people and officials 
in such a way as to retain their present good-wiU. 

As the main object of the Expedition this year is to make 
a definite attempt to reach the summit of Moimt Everest, 
it has been decided that the actual climbing party should be 
as strong as possible. But a limit to the size of the Expedition 
was imposed by the necessity of respect for the feehngs of 
the Tibetans, and a warning had been received from Lhasa 
to keep the numbers as small as possible. For, although 
the authorities at Lhasa might be friendly enough, and 
although there might be no difiiculty in obtaining transport 
from the district round Tingri Dzong, where animals were 
plentiful, yet a large party might press hardly on the 
inhabitants in the matter of food, such as wheat and barley. 
This consideration had therefore to be regarded. Still it 
was thought that the district would not be unduly pressed 
by a party of twelve Europeans. This number will include 
a climbing party of six chosen mountaineers, with two in 
reserve, making eight in all. With General Bruce, a doctor 
(who would also be a naturalist), a photographer and a 
painter, the expeditionary force of Europeans will be complete. 
Colonel E. L, Strutt, C.M.G., has been chosen as second 
in command. He possesses first-rate mountaineering experi- 
ence, and has been Vice-President of the Alpine Club. 

Mr. MaUory fortunately has been able to accept the 
invitation of the Committee to return to Mount Everest 
again this year. The remainder of the climbing party are : 
Captain George Finch, who was unable to join the Expedition 
last year on account of his health; Mr. T. H. Somervell, a 
surgeon, a member of the Alpine Club and an extremely 
energetic climber ; Major E. F. Norton (Royal Artillery) ; and 
Dr. A. W. Wakefield, renowned for his strenuous cUmbing in 
the Lake District and work in Labrador. Besides these six 



314 MOUNT EVEREST 

moTintaineers, Captain Geoffrey Bruce and Captain C. J. Morris, 
both of Gurkha Regiments, and able to speak the language 
of the Bimalayan coohes, will assist General Bruce both in 
looking after and encouraging the cooUes, and also help in 
the general arrangement and organisation of the Expedition 
as a whole. They also are accustomed to mountaineering 
and will act as a reserve to the six cHmbers. 

As doctor and naturalist Dr. T. G. Longstaff has been 
invited to join the Expedition. He has made many cUmbs 
in the Himalaya and other mountain regions, including the 
ascent of Trisul, 23,360 feet. He is not expected to join 
the chmbing party, but his experience will be of great benefit 
to the Expedition generally. 

As photographer, Captain J. B. L. Noel has been selected. 
He had reconnoitred in the direction of Mount Everest in 
1913. For several years he has made a special study of 
photography in aU its various branches. 

But besides photographs of the mountains, the Expedition 
is anxious to bring back pictures which would alone be able 
not only to serve as a record of the infinitely delicate 
colouring of that lofty region, but at the same time would 
show how probably some of the grandest scenery of mighty 
mountains should be represented from the point of view of 
an artist. 

Difficulty was experienced in finding a suitable painter, 
for painters capable of doing justice to mountain scenery, 
and who are also physically fit to travel amongst them at 
such altitudes as those round Mount Everest, are few. We 
have, therefore, to depend on IMr. Somervell to paint us 
pictures. 

In the meantime communications were also passing 
between Colonel BaUey, the Pohtical Agent in Sikkim, and 
the Mount Everest Committee regarding the enlistment of 
coohes for the special corps, and the engagement of the very 
best headman obtainable to look after them. Many of the 
cooUes who were with the Expedition in 1921 had volunteered 
to rejoin this year. But a stronger corps and more carefuUy 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 315 

selected men were needed. The Maharaja of Nepal has 
been asked to aUow some of the most famous Gurkha 
mountain climbers to join the Expedition, and the 
Government of India has been asked to put two or three 
non-commissioned Gurkha officers at the service of General 
Bruce, to assist him generally in looking after the cooHes, 
and seeing that they were properly fed and paid, and that 
they behaved themselves properly. 

The members of last year's Expedition on their return 
were freely and fully consulted as to equipment and 
provisioning of this year's party ; the experience gained 
last year has been therefore made use of in every way possible. 
Suggestions for the improvement of the Mummery-Meade 
tents have been adopted. Better clothing has been provided 
for the coolies. General Bruce has purchased leather coats, 
waistcoats, socks, jerseys and boots from the equipment 
provided for our troops in North Russia during the war, 
which will be admirably suited for the majority of the coohes, 
whilst for the few chosen for high cUmbing on Mount Everest 
itself, clothing precisely similar to that worn by the British 
cHmbers has been provided. 

Captain Farrar and the equipment committee have 
provided a most varied and ample supply of provisions which 
was despatched to India in January. The Primus-stoves 
have been overhauled and retested by Captain Finch. 

Colonel Jack and Mr. Hinks have carefuUy examined all 
the instruments brought back. The aneroids have been 
retested, and all broken instruments replaced. 

The photographic outfit has been considerably enlarged, 
including a cmematograph instrument. The question of 
supplying oxygen has been most thoroughly gone into. All 
flyers in aeroplanes at high altitudes find oxygen absolutely 
necessary. In mountain climbing, however, the almost 
insuperable difficulty is the weight of the apparatus supplying 
the oxygen. As far as possible, this weight has been reduced 
to a minimum. A large number of cylinders, the hghtest 
and smallest obtainable, have been sent out full of compressed 



316 MOUNT EVEREST 

oxygen, and it is hoped that they will be capable of being 
used by the party that will attempt to chmb to the summit 
of Mount Everest. If the cUmbers are capable of carrying 
them, and so getting a continuous supply of oxygen during 
the whole of the climb, there is little doubt that chmbing 
up to 29,000 feet is possible. In aeroplanes considerably 
higher altitudes have been reached with the help of oxygen. 
Moreover, there is this fact in favour of the cHmbers on Mount 
Everest, they will be accHmatised to altitudes of 20,000 feet, 
whilst anyone in an aeroplane is not so acchmatised, having 
risen from sea-level. The cHmbers will have to accommodate 
themselves only to an increased height of 9,000 feet, whilst 
those in an aeroplane have to suffer a diminution in pressure 
equivalent to 29,000 feet. 

Finally, arrangements have been made with the Press 
for the publication of telegrams and photographs from 
the Expedition. FuU information of the progress of the 
Expedition will therefore be available for the pubHc, and it 
win be possible to foUow the cHmbing party, after they leave 
the base camp, which wiU be somewhere near Chobub, as they 
ascend the East Rongbuk Glacier to the advanced base under 
the North col. Afterwards all the preHminary arrangements 
will be reported, and finally there will be an account of the 
great attempt to reach the summit. 

The Expedition wiU be starting nearly two months earlier 
than in 1921. The weather in May and June, before the 
monsoon breaks in July, apparently is more or less settled, 
and so the most must be made of it. In 1921 from the end 
of July tin September high climbing was impossible. It is 
therefore obvious that a determined attempt to chmb Mount 
Everest should be made before the monsoon sets in. 

The ascent from the North col, Changa La, 23,000 feet, 
to the summit of Mount Everest, 29,000 feet, is only 6,000 
feet, and the distance to traverse is about 2 miles. As far 
as can be judged from the numerous photographs of Mount 
Everest, the cHmbing is straightforward with no insurmount- 
able difficulties in the form of steep rock precipices. There 



APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 317 

will be no glaciers overhanging the route which might send 
down avalanches, and no excessively steep ice-slopes. 

But the final ascent will test the endurance of the climbers 
to the utmost. Many people have found the last 1,000 feet 
of Mont Blanc more than they could accompHsh. The last 
1,000 feet of Mount Everest will only be conquered by men 
whose physique is perfect, and who are trained and 
accKmatised to the last possible limit, and who have the 
determination to struggle on when every fibre of their body 
is calling out — ^Hold ! enough ! 

The struggle will be a great one, but it wiU be worth the 
while. To do some new thing beyond anything that has 
been previously accomphshed, and not to be dominated by 
his environment, has made man what he is, and has raised 
him above the beasts. He always has been seeking new 
worlds to conquer. He has penetrated into the forbidding 
ice-worlds at the two poles, and many are the secrets he has 
wrested from Natin-e. There remains yet the highest spot 
on the world's surface. No doubt he will win there also, 
and in the winning will add one more victory over the guarded 
secrets of things as they are. 



APPENDIX I 

THE SURVEY 
By Major H. T. MOESHEAD, D.S.O. 

The personnel selected to form the Survey Detachment under my 
charge were as foUows : Brevet-Major E. 0. Wheeler, M.C., R.E., 
Mr. Lalbir Singh Thapa, Surveyors Gujjar Singh and Turubaz Khan, 
Photographer Abdul Jalil Khan, sixteen khalasis, etc. 

The tasks allotted to the detachment were : — 

(1) A general survey of the whole unmapped area covered by the 
Expedition, on a scale of 1 inch to 4 miles. 

(2) A detailed survey of the immediate environs of Mount Everest 
on the scale of 1 inch to 1 mile. 

(3) A complete revision of the existing |-inch map of Sikkim. 
With the exception of a few rough notes and sketches by early 

travellers and missionaries in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, 
our first knowledge of the Southern portion of the Tibetan province 
of Tsang dated from the epochjof the Survey of India by trained native 
explorers in the middle of the nineteenth century. Thus, much of 
the area visited by the Expedition in 1921 was traversed by the 
explorer Hari Ram during the course of his two journeys in 1871-2 
and 1885 respectively. At that time, however, foreign surveyors 
were not regarded with favour in Tibet ; work could only be carried 
on surreptitiously, and the resulting map merely consisted of a smaU- 
scale route traverse which gave no indication of the surface features 
beyond the explorer's actual route. 

The first rigorous survey undertaken in the neighbourhood was 
that carried out by Captain 0. H. D. Ryder, R.E. (now Colonel Ryder, 
C.I.E., D.S.O., Surveyor-General of India), dm-ing the Tibet Mission 
of 1903-1904. During the stay of the Mission at Kampa, the J-inch 
survey was carried as far West as longitude 88° ; wMle, on the 
subsequent return march up the Tsangpo Valley, surveys were 
extended as far as the Southern watershed of the great river — the 
so-called Ladak Range — ^in latitude 29° approximately, 

3}^ 



320 MOUNT EVEREST 

West of longitude 88° there thus remained a stretch of unsurveyed 
country some 14,000 square miles in area, between the Ladak Range 
on the North and the Great Himalaya Range on the South — the 
latter forming the Northern frontier of Nepal. The Mount Everest 
Expedition provided an opportunity of making good the whole of this 
area, with the exception of some 2,000 square miles at the extreme 
Western end, into which, in view of the restrictions of the Indian 
Foreign Department, I did not feel justified in penetrating. 

Fortunately, Colonel Bury's plans contemplated an outward 
Northerly joiu'ney via Shekar and Tingri to the Western flanks of 
Mount Everest, whence the reconnaissance of the mountain was to 
be carried out from West to East, parallel to the Northern frontier 
of Nepal. This rendered feasible the mapping of the whole unsurveyed 
area between the Southern watershed of the Tsangpo and the Great 
Himalaya Range, as far West as longitude 85° 30', without in any 
way infringing the Foreign Department's orders and restrictions. 

For the purpose of the detailed survey of the Mount Everest regions, 
it was arranged for my Assistant, Major Wheeler, to make a thorough 
test of the Canadian pattern of photo-survey apparatus, of which he 
had had previous experience in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. This 
method of survey, which had not hitherto been employed in India, 
is particularly adapted for use in high mountain regions. Fortunately, 
the experimental outfit, which had recently been ordered from England, 
was delivered just in time to accompany the Expedition. Wheeler's 
account of his season's work will be found in Appendix 11. 

With a view to carrying out the revision survey of Sikkim while 
awaiting the arrival of the members of the Expedition from England, 
the Survey Detachment was authorised to assemble at Darjeeling 
early in April, six weeks before the date fixed for the start of the 
Expedition. In spite of an unusually wet and cloudy spring, the three 
surveyors made such good use of their time that 2,500 square miles 
of country were completed before the advance of the Expedition 
necessitated the temporary abandonment of this work. 

After completing the necessary preliminaries with Colonel Bury, 
I myself left Darjeeling on May 13, intending to rejoin the remainder 
of the Expedition in Sikkim. Continuous rain, however, rendered 
the latter task impossible ; the Sikkim roads were, moreover, blocked 
in several places by severe landsUps, so that I was only with difficulty 
able to reach Kampa by the 28th. It transpired, however, that there 
was no cause for hurry, since the main body of the Expedition, 
travelling via the Chumbi Valley, had encountered greater difficulties 



THE SURVEY 321 

than mine, and did not arrive at Kampa until June 5. While awaiting 
their arrival, I filled in the time by occupying and re-observing from 
Colonel Ryder's old triangulation stations of 1903, overlooking the 
Kampa Plain. 

I had received no news whatever of the Expedition or of the outside 
world since leaving DarjeeHng three-and-a-haK weeks previously. 
Consequently the death of my old friend Dr. Kellas on the very 
day of their arrival at Kampa came to me as a very severe 
shock. 

The Sikkim revision-survey having been so much hampered by 
bad weather, I decided to take only two of the three surveyors with 
the Expedition into Tibet, leaving Surveyor Turabaz Khan to complete 
the comparatively dry areas of Northern Sikkim before the arrival 
of the monsoon. This he succeeded in doing at the cost of considerable 
personal discomfort, retiurning to DarjeeUng in July. 

It was not until we reached the summit of the Tinki Pass on 
June 11 that we foimd ourselves for the first time looking into 
unsurveyed country. From here onwards as far as Tingri the survey 
was kept up by Lalbir Singh, whose unfiagging energy alone enabled 
him to keep pace with the long marches of the Expedition. Each 
morning he was away with his plane-table and squad of coolies long 
before our breakfast was served, seldom reaching camp before nightfall. 
The gathering clouds and other ominous signs of a rapidly approaching 
monsoon, however, forbade any respite. 

On arrival at Tingri, after spending a week in fruitless efforts to 
observe the triangulated peaks of the main Himalayan Range through 
the dense monsoon clouds which were daily piling up more and more 
thickly from the South, I departed on June 26 with Surveyor Gujjar 
Singh on a short trip to explore and map the upper valley of the 
Bhong Chu. 

Our first march led across the wide Tingri Plain, past the hot 
spring village of Tsamda, to the hamlet of Dokcho, at the Southern 
extremity of the Sutso Plain. This plain is covered with the ruins 
of numerous villages and watch-towers, the haunt of countless rock- 
pigeons. They are aU of loftier and more substantial construction 
than the miserable hovels which form the scattered hamlets of to-day — 
indicating, apparently, the former presence of a large and warlike 
population. It is impossible even to hazard a guess at the age of 
these ruins, which may have preserved their present state for generations 
in the comparatively arid climate of Tibet. Many of the towers are 
60 feet or more in height ; roofs and floors have aU disappeared, but 

M.E. Y 



322 MOUNT EVEREST 

the massive mud walls in many instances still bear the marks of the 
wooden shuttering used in their erection. This method of construction 
is unknown, I believe, in Tibet at the present day. 

The next day's march, skirting the Western edge of the plain, 
brought us to the village of Phuri, where the river flows in a flat- 
bottomed, cultivated valley, between bare brown hills. On the 28th 
we camped at Menkhap-to, the highest village in the valley. The 
headman, a sort of local " warden of the marches," refused to see 
me and shut himself up in his house, guarding his door with three 
huge mastiffs who effectively frustrated the efforts of my messengers 
to establish communications. Evidently he feared the subsequent 
results to himself of harbouring strangers. The remaining villagers 
were quite friendly, however, and supplied aU my requirements. One 
man, the owner of a gun, surprised me by a request for 12-bore cartridges 
just after I had greatly shocked his neighbour's Buddhist susceptibilities 
by killing a butterfly for my collection ! Much snow is reported to 
fall at Meixkhap-to, which is deserted during the winter months, when 
the inhabitants descend to Menkhap-me (" lower Menkhap ") and 
the Sutso Plain. 

Above Menkhap-to the road leaves the main valley and proceeds 
Westwards over a spur known as the Lungchen La (17,700 feet). 
This spur commands an extensive view across the wide, uninhabited 
Pekhu Plain, with its three lakes, as far as the snowy range running 
North-west from the summit of Gosainthan. On a fine day, the 
whole panorama can be sketched in from a couple of fixings on either 
side of the pass ; unfortmiately, at the time of our arrival bad weather 
had set in, and the whole snow-range was hidden in cloud. I had 
therefore to leave Gujjar Singh camped near the summit of the pass 
to await a fine day for the completion of his surveys, and myself returned 
at the end of the month to Tingri, where I rejoined Mr. WoUaston, 
who had been detained at headquarters by an outbreak of enteric 
fever amongst the Expedition servants. 

Wild game is plentiful in the Upper Bhong Valley. I shot numerous 
hares, some ram-chakor and a bar-headed goose during the trip ; 
while Gujjar Singh caught a young, week-old barhal lamb on the 
summit of the Lungchen Pass, which, however, died after three weeks 
in captivity. Gazelle are common on the Sutso Plain. 

By the end of June, Lalbir Singh had finished the inking of his 
previous surveys, and was ready for fresh work. Accordingly, after 
spending a couple of days in examining his board, and checking the 
spelling of his village names with the aid of the local Tibetan officials, 



THE SURVEY 323 

I despatched him on a lengthy programme of work in Pharuk and 
Kharta. It was three months before I saw him again. 

About this time a messenger arrived from the Dzongpen of Nyenyam, 
inviting us to visit his district, which lay four marches to the South- 
west, in the valley of the Po Chu or Bhotia Kosi R. Although Nyenyam 
was not one of the districts specifically mentioned in our passport, 
Wollaston and I decided, with the concurrence of Colonel Bury, to 
avail ourselves of the opportunity of visiting this little-known area. 

Leaving Tingri on July 13, with the interpreter Gyaldzan Kazi 
and Surveyor Gujjar Singh, who had now returned after completing 
his work on the Lungchen Pass, we camped that evening at Langkor, 
a small village at the Western edge of the Tingri Plain. A cantilever 
bridge which spans the Gya Chu opposite the village had been carried 
away by floods shortly before our arrival, and the whole population 
of the hamlet, male and female, were busily engaged in its recon- 
struction, working in relays to the accompaniment of prolonged 
and vigorous blasts on a " conch " which a monk was diligently 
blowing in order — as it was explained to us — to avert further rainfall 
until the bridge should be completed. His efforts were rewarded 
with tolerable success, as the rain held off all day in spite of the 
threatening storm-clouds which loomed up from the South-west. 

The most interesting feature of Langkor is an ancient temple, 
an appanage of the great Drophung monastery of Lhasa. This 
building, which is said to be over 1,000 years old, contains a sacred 
stone alleged to have been hurled across the Himalayan Range from 
India, and to have pitched in the Tingri Plains. The name Tingri 
is said to be derived from the noise (" ting ") made by the falUng 
stone. The stone is carefully preserved inside a wooden box, which 
is opened with much ceremony on the first day of the Tibetan new 
year. The temple, which is managed by a committee of fifteen civilian 
monks (nyakchang), also contains a library of 4,400 books, and an 
image of the Indian saint Tamba Sanye which is popularly believed 
to have grown by itself from the ground in situ. 

Crossing the Tang La (17,980 feet) in a driving snowstorm, a long 
march of 22 miles brought us next day to the bleak village of Tulung, 
in the upper valley of the Po Chu. As we descended the Western 
side of the pass the snow-clouds gradually dispersed, disclosing glimpses 
of the magnificent twin summits of Gosainthan (26,290 feet), 30 miles 
to the West. Several of our coolies succumbed to mountain sickness 
on the pass, with the result that my bedding and the kitchen box 
only reached camp at 9 p.m, 



324 MOUNT EVEREST 

On July 15 our road lay for 8 miles along the flat valley of the 
Po Chu ; the river then turns sharply Southwards, passing for 3 
miles through a gorge of granite and schist. Bushes of wild currant, 
gooseberry, berberis and dog-rose here begin to appear, and around 
the village of Targyeling, where we camped, were smiling fields of 
mustard and buckwheat, in addition to the usual Tibetan crops of 
barley and dwarf pea. After a month spent in the bleak Tibetan 
uplands, it was a relief to pitch our tents in a homely green field, 
alongside a rippling brook lined with familiar ranunculus, cow parsley, 
forget-me-not, and a singularly beautiful pale mauve cranesbUl, 
and to feast our eyes on the glorious purple of the wild thyme which 
clothed the hiUsides in great patches of colour. 

The next day, still following the course of the Po Chu, we reached 
Nyenyam, a large and very insanitary village which is known under 
the name of Kuti by the Nepalis who constitute the majority of its 
inhabitants. These Nepali traders (Newars) have their own Hindu 
temple in the village. There is also a Nepalese chauki (court-house) 
with a haqim (magistrate) invested with summary powers of juris- 
diction over Nepali subjects ; he is specially charged with the 
settlement of trade disputes, and with the encouragement of Tibeto- 
Nepalese trade and commerce. 

As is customary in all important districts of Tibet, there are here 
two Dzongpens, who by a polite fiction are known as " Eastern " 
and " Western " (Dzongshar and Dzongnup) respectively. Actually, 
the functions of the two Dzongpens are identical ; the raison d'etre 
of the double regime being an attempt to protect the peasants from 
extortion by the device of providing two administrators, who, in 
theory at least, act as a check upon each other's peculations. At 
the time of our arrival, those two worthies were so busy preparing 
a joint picnic that we had considerable difficulty in getting their 
attention. 

I spent three days in exploring the neighbourhood of Nyenyam, 
while WoUaston was engaged in his botanical and zoological pursuits. 
Gujjar Singh, with the plane-table, was detained by bad weather 
higher up the valley. Below Nyenyam the river enters a very deep, 
narrow gorge ; pines and other forest trees begin to appear. The 
road, which here becomes impassable for animals, crosses the river 
four times in 6 miles by cantilever bridges before reaching the village 
of Choksum, but I could find no trace of the portion described by 
explorer Hari Ram in 1871 as consisting of slabs of stone 9 to 18 inches 
wide supported on iron pegs let into the vertical face of the rock at 



THE SURVEY 325 

a height of 1,500 feet above the river. At Choksum (10,500 feet) 
the river falls at an average rate of 500 feet per mile. The Nepal 
frontier is crossed near Dram village, some 10 miles further down 
stream, but owing to the vile state of the weather, which rendered 
even the roughest attempts at surveying impossible, I abandoned 
all idea of reaching the spot. 

On July 20 we retraced our steps 9 miles up the vaUey to Tashishong, 
where we foimd Dr. Heron encamped, together with Gujjar Singh, 
whose work had been hung up for a week by continued cloud and 
rainfall. Heron returned Northwards next day, while we followed 
a rough easterly track leading over the Lapche Range to the village 
of the same name in the valley of the Kang Chu. The weather on 
this day was atrocious, and our last pretence of accurate surveying 
broke down. We were unable to reach Lapche village by dusk, 
and spent a somewhat cheerless night on boulders in drenching 
rain at 14,600 feet, with no fuel except a few green twigs of dwarf 
rhododendron. 

Lapche (La-Rimpoche, " precious hiU ") is sacred as the home 
and birthplace of Jetsun Mila Repa, a wandering lama and saint who 
lived in Southern Tibet in the eleventh century, and who taught by 
parables and songs, some of which have considerable literary merit. 
The two principal works ascribed to him are an autobiography, or 
namtar, and a collection of tracts called Labum, or the " myriad 
songs." They are stUl among the most popular books in Tibet.* 
His hermit-cell still remains under a rock on the hillside, and his 
memory is preserved by an ancient temple and monastery, the resort 
of numerous pilgrims, alongside which we pitched our tents. 

Lapche village is situated on a spur overlooking the junction of 
two branches of the Kang stream — the latter being a tributary of 
the Rongshar River, which, in turn, joins the Bhotia Kosi River in 
Nepal. The extreme dampness of the local climate is indicated by 
the trailing streamers of lichen which festoon the trees, and by the 
pent roofs of the buildings. The village contains some ten or twelve 
houses, of which half are occupied by Tibetans and half by Nepalese 
subjects (Sharpas) — each community having its own headman. The 
inhabitants were very friendly and pleasant, and gave us a good deal 
of information. The village is deserted during the winter months, 
when the whole population migrates across the border into Nepal. 
The Tibetans pay no taxes to Nepal during their half-yearly sojourn 

* Journey to Lhasa and Central Tibet, by S. C. Dass, C.I.E., page 205, 
footnote by Hon. W. W. Rockhi]!. 



326 MOUNT EVEREST 

in the lower valley ; conversely, the Nepalis during their summer 
residence in Lapche are not subject to Tibetan taxation or to the 
imposition of ulag (forced labour). The Tibetans of Lapche pay 
their taxes in the form of butter direct to the Lapche monastery, 
the head lama, or abbot, of which resides at Phuto Gompa near 
Nyenyam. The Nepal frontier is some 10 miles below Lapche, opposite 
the snow-peak of Karro Pumri. Katmandu can be reached in eight 
days, but the track is bad and very little trade passes this way. 

Transport arrangements necessitated a day's halt at Lapche, 
which was fortunately enlivened by the timely arrival of a large 
parcel of letters and newspapers, which Colonel Bury had thought- 
fully sent after us from Tingri — almost the last news of the outside 
world which we were to receive for over two months. 

From Lapche we proceeded to the Rongshar VaUey, crossing 
the Kangchen and Kangchung ("big snow" and "little snow") 
passes. Descending the hill to Trintang village, where we camped 
on July 25, the clouds lifted momentarily, disclosing an amazing 
view of the superb snow summit of Gaurisankar towering magnificently 
above us just across the valley. This moimtain, which is called by 
the Tibetans Chomo Tsering, or Trashi Tsering, is the westernmost 
of a group of five very sacred peaks known collectively as Tsering 
Tse-nga ("Tsering five peaks"). Unfortunately, owing to constant 
clouds, I was unable to identify with certainty the remaining four 
peaks of Tingki Shalzang, Miyo Lobzang, Chopen Drinzang and 
Tekar Drozang. Owing to the sacred nature of the Rongshar Valley, 
the slaughtering of animals is strictly forbidden ; the large fiocks 
and herds of the villagers are only sold for slaughter in the adjoining 
districts of Tingri and Nepal, and we were only able to buy a sheep 
on promising not to kill it until after quitting the vaUey. 

Trintang village occupies a plateau 1,750 feet above the level 
of the river ; 1,400 feet below is the village of Tropde, to which the 
Trintang residents all descend in winter. Rongshar Dzong, which 
is situated in the lower village, has no importance ; at the time of 
our visit the Dzongpen had gone to his home on leave of absence, 
leaving his affairs in the hands of a steward. 

A day's halt being necessary in order to coUect transport, I took 
the opportunity of descending the Rongshar VaUey as far as the Nepal 
frontier, while Gujjar Singh endeavoured, without much success, 
to pick up the threads of his sui'vey by identifying the snowy peaks 
which occasionally afforded brief ghmpscs through rifts in the clouds. 
The Rongshar River drops 1,400 feet in 7 miles between Tropde and 



THE SURVEY 327 

the Nepal 'frontier, which is crossed at an altitude of roughly 9,000- 
feet. 

On July 27 we marched 20 miles up the Rongshar VaUey to the 
village of Tazang (Takpa-Santsam, " limit of birch trees "), which, 
as its name implies, is situated at the extreme upper limit of the forest 
zone. On the way we passed the village and monastery of Chuphar, 
whence a track leads South-east over the difficult snow-pass of 
Menlung (" vale of medicinal herbs ") to the villages of RowaUng 
and Tangpa in the Kangphu VaUey of Nepal. 

Tazang had already been visited by Colonel Bury, a month 
previously. The local headman was too drunk, on the evening of 
our arrival, to send out the necessary messages summoning the village 
transport-yaks from their grazing grounds. In consequence, our 
baggage was only got under weigh at 11 a.m. next morning, and we 
were compelled to pitch our tents at a grazing camp (16,500 feet) 
after only covering 9 miles. The weather showed signs of improve- 
ment in proportion as we receded from the Himalayan gorges, but 
dense banks of cloud still obscured all the hill-tops. An easy march 
over the Phuse La (17,850 feet) brought us on the 29th to the bleak 
village of Kyetrak, situated at the foot of the great Kyetrak Glacier, 
on the extreme Southern edge of the Tingri plain — an area which we 
had already surveyed six weeks previously. 

From Kyetrak we proceeded via the Lamna La to Chobuk, thence 
following the tracks of the Expedition headquarters which Colonel 
Bury had just transferred from Tingri to Kharta in the lower Bhong 
Chu VaUey. On reaching headquarters on August 2, we found 
Colonel Bury in sole occupation — MaUory and Bullock having left 
that very morning on a reconnaissance of the Eastern approaches 
to Mount Everest. 

The weather during the whole of August was such as to render 
out-of-door survey operations impossible. Gujjar Singh was occupied 
during the month in adjusting and inking his surveys, while I filled 
in several days in making tracings of all work so far completed, after 
which, for the remainder of the season, I joined the mountaineers, 
whose doings are recorded elsewhere in this book. 

On the retturn journey in October I despatched Gujjar Singh from 
Gyangkar Nangpa to complete the remaining portions of the Sikkim 
revision-survey ; at the same spot I picked up Lalbir Singh, who, 
after completing his survey of the Pharuk and Kharta areas, had 
crossed the Bhong Chu below Lungdo and worked his way back via 
Tashirakar and Sar. Travelling via Kampa and Lachen Valley, 



328 MOUNT EVEREST 

■we reached Darjeeling on October 16. Tracings of the new survey 
were hastily finished and sent to press, with the result that a complete 
preliminary J-inch map in six colours was published before the last 
members of the Expedition had sailed for England. A |-inch 
preliminary sketch-map of the environs of Mount Everest was also 
prepared by Major Wheeler at the same time for the use of the moun- 
taineers in discussing the details of their next year's climb . 

The out-turn of work during the Expedition was as follows : — 
J-inch revision survey ..... 4,000 square miles 
J-inch original survey ..... 12,000 square miles 
Detail photo-survey (environs of Mount Everest) 600 square miles 

The surveyors aU worked splendidly under difficult and trying 
conditions. Major Wheeler had probably the hardest time of any 
member of the Expedition, and his success in achieving single-handed 
the mapping of 600 square miles of some of the most mountainous 
country in the world is sufficient proof of his determination and grit. 
It is difficult for those who have not actually had the experience to 
conceive the degree of mental and physical discomfort which results 
to the surveyor from prolonged camping at high altitudes during 
the monsoon, waiting for the fine day which never comes. Such 
was our fate for four months during the Expedition of 1921, yet on 
looking back one feels that the results were well worth while. The 
discomforts soon fade from recollection ; the pleasures alone remain 
in one's memory, and there is not one of us but would gladly repeat 
our season's experiences, if so required. 



APPENDIX II 

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 
By Major E. 0. WHEELER, M.C. 

I had purchased a set of photo-topographical surveying instruments 
of the Canadian pattern, on behalf of the Survey of India, while on 
leave in 1920. A trial of this method of surveying mountainous 
country was to be carried out in Garhwal in 1921 ; but when Survey 
of India officers were asked for to accompany the Mount Everest 
Expedition, I was detailed to carry out the trial there. Possibly a 
word of explanation of the method used may not be amiss. 

The " Canadian " method — if I may call it so ; for although it 
was invented and has been used elsewhere, it has been far more 
extensively applied in Canada than in any other part of the world — 
may be briefly described as " plane-tabling by photography." It 
requires, equally with the plane-table, an accurate framework, on 
which to base the detailed survey ; and simply substitutes a small 
(3-inch vernier) theodolite and camera for the sight-rule and 
plane-table. Stations are fixed and photographs oriented by means 
of the theodolite ; the photographs, which are taken so as to be as 
nearly as possible true perspectives, represent the country as it would 
be seen by the plane-tabler, and detail on them may be fixed by 
intersections or sketched in by eye in exactly the same way as on the 
plane-table. 

Angles are read and photographs taken in the field ; and, if 
considered necessary to test exposures or protect photographic plates 
from deterioration due to climatic conditions, development of plates 
is also carried out there. Otherwise, the map is made wholly in the 
office, using either contact prints or enlargements, from the negatives 
taken in the field. The latter are usually preferable. The main 
advantages at high altitudes over the plane-table are, that a much 
larger area can be covered in a given time in the field, that the 
instruments are more portable for difficult cHmbing, that there is 
no necessity to do accurate drawing with numbed fingers, and that 

329 



330 MOUNT EVEREST 

the draughtsman may see the country from several points of view 
at one time. On the other hand, more equipment is necessary, and 
— a great disadvantage sometimes, as in this case — the map does not 
come into being as one goes along. 

After carrying out various preliminary adjustments and tests 
at the office of the Trigonometrical Survey at Dehra Dun, I reached 
Darjeeling on AprU 30, and Tingri on June 19, traveUing with 
Expedition Headquarters via Phari Dzong. 

En route Tingri, we had caught glimpses of Everest and the 
neighbourkig peaks ; so that by the time we arrived there, I was 
able, with the help of the existing maps and what local information 
we had obtained, to decide on the area I would attempt to survey. 
I say " attempt," for little was really known then about the geography, 
and still less about the weather conditions throughout the summer. 
As it turned out in the end, the area had to be much curtailed, and 
certain parts surveyed in considerably less detail than I should have 
liked : almost wholly on account of the weather. Although it was 
often fairly clear at 6 a.m. or so, photographs taken before 8, 
particularly at the latter end of the season, were of little use for 
surveying purposes. 

However, at the outset, I had hoped to map, on the scale of 1 inch 
= 1 mile, the whole area between the Arun Gorge on the East and 
the Ra Chu on the West : and from the Nepal-Tibet boundary 
Northwards for some 20 miles ; i.e. to the point where the various 
streams, flowing in a Northerly direction from the high boundary 
ridge, issue from the mountains proper into the more rolhng foot-hills 
on the Southern outskii-ts of the Tibetan Plateau. This area includes 
Mount Everest itself near the centre of its Southern side, Makalu and 
Pk. 25,413 to the South-east, Pks. 23,800 (Khartaphu), 23,420, and 
23,080 to the North-east and North, and Pks. 25,990 (Gyachung 
Kang), 25,202, 25,909 and 26,867 (Cho Oyu) to the North-west ; and 
comprises some 1,000 square miles of country : a suitable season's work, 
given reasonably fine weather. This unfortunately we did not get. 

On June 24, the day after Messrs. MaUory and Bullock had started 
for the Rongbuk VaUey, Dr. Heron and I marched South across the 
plain to the village of Sharto, en route Kyetrak, in the Ra Chu VaUey, 
where I intended to establish my base camp while surveying the 
Kyetrak Glacier and West face of the Cho Oyu — Gyachung Kang 
group. The next day we rnoved on to Kyetrak, 1 mile below the 
snout of the glacier, and made camp there. This bleak village and 
the route to it and over the Phiise La have already been described. 



THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 331 

June 26 was fine, so after crossing the Ra Chu on local ponies, 
ourselves and our ice-axes and rucksacks perched on Tibetan saddles 
— a cold and uncomfortable proceeding in the early morning — we 
ascended the 18,000-foot hill immediately West of the village. Up 
to 1 p.m. we had excellent views across and up the Kyetrak Valley ; 
but only a glimpse of Gauri Sankar (Chomo Tsering) to the South-west, 
where heavy clouds soon began to roU up. Cho Oyu and Pk. 25,909 
and their spurs unfortunately cut out all distant views to the South- 
east, as they did everywhere in the upper part of this valley ; so that 
my first view of Everest was from Tingri a month later. Next day, 
we started shortly after daylight for a spur on the East side of the 
valley ; unfortunately — and this happened in the case of almost 
every peak I started for until mid-September — clouds began to roll 
up, and we were forced to stop to take the photographs before we 
had reached a really good view-point. 

Colonel Bury arrived at Kyetrak shortly after we got back to 
camp. On the 28th he and Heron started off early for a flying visit 
to the Kyetrak Glacier and Nangba La ; I started later, after getting 
kit together, for a camp half-way up the glacier, and about 6 miles 
from Kyetrak. About 2 p.m. I found a comparatively dry spot on 
shale at 18,000 feet, and pitched my tents there, the last of the coolies 
arriving only at 6 p.m. The place was bleak enough, but was as far 
as I could get that day, and seemed suitable for two cHmbs — one on 
either side of the glacier. 

My equipment consisted of the camera, theodolite, and a small 
plane-table — to help in identifying triangulated points — by way of 
instruments, which were carried by three coohes who remained with 
me. Ten other coolies slept at the base camp at Kyetrak, and carried 
stores up to me or moved the camp, as required ; the camp consisted 
of a Whymper tent for the three coolies and a Meade for myself ; 
bedding, food, a Primus stove and tin of kerosene for my own cooking, 
and yak dung fuel for the coolies. My servant remained at the base 
camp and sent up cooked meat and vegetables ; otherwise I cooked 
for myself. 

June 29 and 30 were useless days ; but on July 1 the weather 
cleared a bit, and after crossing the glacier, I went up a sharp rock 
shoulder of Cho Rapzang. The peak was mainly loose granite blocks 
at a steep angle, so that progress was slow : it was noon when I reached 
the top (about 19,500 feet), and as I did so the clouds settled down, 
and it began to snow. However, at 4 p.m. it cleared sufficiently for 
some work to be done ; after that we came down as quickly as possible 



332 MOUNT EVEEEST 

in another blinding Bnowstorm, and reached camp just after dark ; 
I for one very tired. I found the coolies exceedingly slow in coming 
down the loose blocks, I think because their balance was bad — they 
had to use their hands far more than I did. 

I had a good view of the glacier from here : the East side is very 
steep and broken, with several tributary glaciers flowing down from 
Cho Oyu and Pk. 25,909, and from a 23,000-foot Peak (not triangulated) 
to the North of the latter. The West side, except for Cho Rapzang, 
round which the glacier flows, is a snowfield falling more or less gently 
from a low ridge running from the pass to the West of Cho Rapzang. 
The glacier itself is like many others in this region, moraine covered 
for 3 or 4 miles above its snout, " pinnacled " for another mile, and 
finally practically flat. But this flat portion gives by no means good 
going ; when frozen it is very irregular and trying to walk over ; and 
when thawed, is slushy and water soaked. There are two large water 
channels in the ice which are unpleasant to cross ; these are from 
10 to 15 feet wide and 20 feet deep, and carry a large volume of water 
in the afternoon. Crossing without a rope is distinctly dangerous, 
for although one can flnd places easy enough to jump, a slip would 
be certain death, for once in the channel it would be quite impossible 
to get out, or even to stop oneself on its smooth ice floor and sides. 

Cloudy weather then set in ; but on the 3rd I got a few 
photographs from a shoulder near by, and moved camp 2 or 3 miles 
farther up the glacier (at about 18,500 feet). I was in this camp for 
nine days and only succeeded in taking two low stations, one on either 
side of the glacier and each about IJ miles from the pass (Nangba 
La) to Nepal ; but the valley on the South side, leading down to 
Khungphu, turns sharply to the East just below the pass, and little 
could be seen of the Nepalese side. Each of these stations I went up 
twice — to wait all day long the first time, in each case, for weather 
which never came. To reach the station on the East side of the 
glacier I had the only comparatively difficult rock chmbing which I 
met with during the course of the Expedition ; and on the way down 
watched my theodolite coohe, whom I had left behind exhausted in 
the morning, tumble ofi a steep rock arete, theodohte and all ; 
fortunately he jammed in a crack a few feet below, and was unhurt. 
During the day he had started up after us on his own, and had lost 
his way in the clouds. 

On July 12 — another wet day — I moved camp some distance 
down the main glacier and up a tributary flowing from Pk. 25,909 and 
Cho Oyu, and next day ascended a shoulder whence a good view into 



THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SUEVEY 333 

the cirque below these two peaks was obtained — or should have been 
obtained ! But again I sat tiU dusk and saw Little or nothing. Early 
the following day, however, it was fairly clear, so I got my photographs 
and then moved camp back to the base at Kyetrak. 

The next three days were spent in moving my base camp to the 
bridge across the Ra Chu, 6 miles below Kyetrak ; taking a light 
camp up to about 18,000 feet on the prominent hill immediately 
East of the bridge, climbing the latter, sitting through the usual 
storms without doing any work, and returning to the bridge. Time 
was getting on, and the weather was stiU bad, so I then decided to 
leave my camp at the bridge and move into Headquarters myself 
to get developing, etc., up to date, and have a short rest. I walked 
into Tingri, with two coolies, on July 18, and found Colonel Bury 
there alone : and the Headquarters house felt very comfortable 
indeed after a Meade tent, in spite of nightly pilgrimages from one 
dry spot to another, as the roof leaked ! 

Five busy days were spent at Tingri developing and printing ; 
and as the weather showed little sign of improvement, I decided to 
go on with Headquarters to Chobuk, in the Rongbuk VaUey and work 
on that side, so as to make sure of completing the most important 
part, in the vicinity of Everest, and return to the Kyetrak Valley if 
there should be time. So on the 24th Colonel Bury and I left Tingri 
and reached Chobuk on the 25th, where we met MaUory and BuUock, 
just in from their reconnaissance of the North and North-west sides 
of Everest. A talk with them gave me some idea of the country, 
and the view from an 18,000-foot hUl above Chobuk enabled me to 
make a plan of campaign : far more extensive, as always, than the 
weather eventually allowed. 

Colonel Bury, MaUory and Bullock had gone on to Kharta on July 
26 ; on the 27th I moved up the right bank of the Rongbuk VaUey 
some 10 miles, to the monastery, above which I took a 20,000-foot 
tation the next day. The weather was dreadful, but at 6 p.m. I 
got a round of photographs, which reaUy turned out very well 
considering the time of day at which they were taken : it took me 
four and a half hours to get up this peak — afresh snow and scree — 
and although I had no glissades, only half an hour to come down. 

On the 27th I moved camp to a grassy hoUow near the snout of 
the glacier — ^MaUory and BuUock's base — and next day occupied 
another hiU. overlooking the main glacier and vaUey, and looking up 
the side vaUey on the East, which joins the Dzakar Chu just below 
the glacier snout. The next three days were spent in establishing 



334 • MOUNT EVEREST 

a light camp on the left bank of the East branch of the Rongbuk 
Glacier, about 3 mUes from its snout, and taking a station on its left 
bank to overlook both the East and main glaciers. 

The Rongbuk Glacier is made up of two large branches, one flowing 
from the snow basin immediately below the great North wall of 
Everest, and the other, the " West Rongbuk " which joins the main 
stream about 4 miles above the snout of the glacier, flowing East 
in the basin between the high North-west ridge of Everest and the 
South-east slopes of Pk. 25,990 (Gyachung Kang). At one time there 
was a third branch, the " East Rongbuk," which must have also 
joined the main stream, but this has receded until its snout is now 
a mile or more East of the main glacier, and only its torrent pours 
into a large cave in the latter. The East Rongbuk itself consists of 
two branches : one, the more southerly, flows from the great snow 
basin (which we eventually crossed to reach the North Col) between 
Everest, its North Peak and Col, and Pk. 23,800 (Khartaphu) ; and 
the other, which joins the South branch about 2 miles from its snout, 
from between Pks. 23,800 and 23,420. The former gives a 20,000-foot 
pass, very steep on the South side, to the Kama Valley ; and the 
latter, an easy pass of about the same height to the head of one branch 
of the Kharta VaUey. 

I camped, at about 19,600 feet, on the moraine-covered glacier 
opposite the junction of the northerly branch from Pks. 23,800 and 
23,420. On the way up I followed the watercourse between the ice 
of the Main Rongbuk Glacier and the scree and conglomerate slopes 
to the East of it, as far as the mouth of the East Rongbuk stream 
(3 miles), which gave good though boulder-strewn going. Thence a 
short scramble up " cut-bank " on the right bank of the East Rongbuk 
stream to the shelf of an old lateral moraine of that glacier, and along 
the latter — excellent going — ^to near its snout. The stream is pretty 
big in the evening ; but quite easy to cross — except for iced rocks — 
in the early morning : and from there I followed up a series of lateral 
moraines on the left bank, to my camp. It was not tUl I was coming 
down that I discovered that the moraine-covered glacier itself — here 
covered with shale instead of boulders and scree as in the case of the 
main glacier — gave comfortable walking. 

A little distance below my camp site, the moraine-covered snout 
gives place to pinnacled ice, divided into three sections by two broad, 
ehaly medial moraines. Either of the latter would be very suitable 
for a camp, and would give an excellent route to our 21,600-foot camp 
below the Chang La. The latter might, I think, be reached 



THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 335 

by this route in three days from the base camp at the snout of the 
main glacier, camping the first night at 19,000 feet at the start of 
the medial moraine, the second at 20,000 feet on the medial moraine 
some 2 miles above the junction of the Northern and Southern 
branches of the East Rongbuk, and the third night on snow at 21,500 
feet below the North Col. The better moraine to ascend would require 
reconnaissance ; for the pinnacles between them are difficult and slow 
to cross. The valley sides are steep in the lower reaches of the glacier, 
but more shaly and gentle on both branches, above their junction. 

August 3 broke clear ; and I started up a likely looking peak 
behind (South of) camp, which appeared to be on the ridge between 
the East and main glaciers. I afterwards found that this was not 
the case ; at the time I had to stop on a lower point as the clouds 
settled down. From here I had a ghmpse of a big peak — Makalu, 
I thought — over the pass at the head of the southerly branch of the 
glacier : and this gave me the idea that there must be a comparatively 
low pass from here to the Kama Valley. But clouds prevented me 
seeing more and studying the topography more carefuUy. There 
were heavy snowstorms on August 4 and 5, but the 6th looked better, 
and after four hours' most strenuous step -cutting up and shthering 
down pinnacles, I crossed the glacier and ascended a 21,000-foot 
station on the other side, from which I obtained good, if cloudy, 
views of the East Rongbuk Glacier. Snow in the night and a dull 
morning made me decide to abandon this area — I could get my camp 
no farther up owing to having insufficient warm clothes to camp all 
my coolies at this height — and I returned to the base camp, preparatory 
to tackling the West side of the Rongbuk VaUey. Six hours' easy 
going took me to my base camp. 

After two days' rest and office work, I crossed the glacier and put 
a light camp at about 19,000 feet in a small hanging valley below 
the " Finger," a black rock gendarme which is a very prominent 
landmark on the left bank of the Rongbuk VaUey. On August 11 
it snowed heavily, and I found my bed, in which I spent the day, 
very hard indeed — the camp being pitched on large boulders on 
top of the moraine. On the 12th, 13th, and 14th, I started for the 
" Finger," the first time by the ridge immediately above camp, which 
gave some nice climbing with the rocks partly snow covered as they 
were, and the other two days, by a much quicker but less interesting 
route up soft snow and scree. Each day the clouds came down, and 
although I waited tiU nearly dark at about 20,500 feet on the ridge, it was 
not tm the third day that I got a round of indifEerent photographs. 



336 MOUNT EVEREST 

Time was getting on, so on the 15th I called my " Finger " station 
" good enough " and moved camp up the left bank of the main glacier 
to a point on the old lateral moraine, opposite the entrance of the 
stream from the East Rongbuk ; and the next day round the corner 
to the West, some distance up the West Rongbuk Glacier, and about 
1,000 feet above it. En route, I tried to get some photographs from 
the high moraine at the junction of the West with the main glacier ; 
but again the weather defeated me, and I got into camp — another 
uncomfortable one — soaked to the skin. 

I was in this camp for five days ; most of them spent huddled 
under rocks waiting for the clouds to lift. I had one beautiful 
day, my only one in six weeks, and got some very nice photographs 
of Mount Everest and its West ridge. It is surprising how a little 
good weather and the feeling of having reaUy done some work affects 
one's spirits ! 

On August 211 moved back to my base camp at the glacier snout, 
again trying for a station at the corner — and failing. I had not 
done nearly as much as I wanted to do ; but there seemed to be no 
end to the bad weather, and only a month or a bit more remained in 
which to map the whole of the East side of the mountain : and I 
had heard from Colonel Bury that there would be a considerable 
amount of work on that side. Originally, I had hoped not only to 
return to the bridge over the Ra Chu to complete the work in the 
Kyetrak Valley, but also to take several stations in the valleys running 
North from the 23,000-foot group North of Everest. But again apart 
from shortage of time, the weather made it out of the question, and I 
went through to Kharta, via the Doya La, arriving there on August 27. 

The change in scenery immediately one crosses the Doya La is 
most marked, both as regards rock and vegetation. The former — 
mostly gneiss — is far more rugged and interesting, and there is infinitely 
more of the latter. The Headquarters camp at Kharta, in a little 
poplar grove, was pleasant indeed after the bleak, uninteresting 
Rongbuk Valley ; and I thoroughly enjoyed my five days there, 
developing and printing ; busy days, but very different from lying 
on one's back on the sharp boulders of the Rongbuk moraines. 
Mallory, Bullock and Morshead were in Kharta when I arrived ; 
Colonel Bury and Wollaston returned from their excursion to the 
Popti La soon after, and Raeburn arrived on September 1. It was 
a great treat to me to be able to " swap lies " with so many people, 
after two months almost wholly alone ! 

On September 3 Morshead and I started up the Kharta Chu in 



THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 337 

the wake of Mallory and Bullock, who had gone up to get the 
" bundobust " for the final fling going. As usual, bad weather dogged 
my footsteps, and although the weather while I was in Kharta had 
been glorious, Morshead and I spent seven days in taking two very 
indifferent stations in the lower part of the Kharta VaUey, before 
joining the remainder of the expedition at the "Advanced Base" 
on September 11. A further eight days were spent there, waiting 
for the weather ; but in that time I was able to get two very useful 
stations, one on either side of the valley. 

On September 19 I moved up to "No. 1 Camp " with Mallory, 
BuUock and Morshead ; and shared the fortunes of the rest of the 
Expedition as far as Kampa Dzong on the way back to Darjeeling, 
where Raeburn, Heron and I left Headquarters to return to Dar- 
jeeling via Lachen and the Teesta Valley. I was delighted to get 
into the " final push," and enjoyed the few days' change from surveying 
to cUmbing, enormously ; except that I felt the cold very much in 
my feet, and had it not been for Mallory's good offices — he rubbed 
my feet for a solid hour after we came down from Chang La — 
I feel sure that the result might have been much more serious than 
the slight discomfort I afterwards experienced. 

I took three stations in the neighbourhood of No. 1 Camp — one 
on either side of the Kharta Glacier, and one at 22,300 feet on the 
" Lhakpa La." This was on snow, with my instrument resting on, 
and steadied by, bags of " tsampa " ; which proved to be a most 
excellent substitute for rock ! 

On September 26 I crossed with Colonel Bury and WoUaston to 
the Kama Valley ; unfortunately, we "only had two clear days there, 
and I had to leave it without covering as much ground as I should 
have Uked, though — as usual — I spent my days in snowstorms, 
hoping for breaks in the clouds. 

The return to Darjeeling via the SerpoLa, Lachen, and the Teesta 
VaUey, made a pleasant change from the Phari route ; but again 
bad weather spoiled our views, and we saw nothing at all of 
Kangchenjunga and its neighbours. Raeburn went in by the usual 
road via Gangtok ; Heron and I followed the river — an excellent 
route in spite of the prevalence of leeches — and reached Pashok on 
October 19. Heron went on to Darjeeling, a further 18 miles, the 
same day. I followed on the 20th. 

I enjoyed the Expedition and my work with it, thoroughly ; but 
in my opinion, Tibet, at any rate that portion of it in which we were, 
is a place to have been, rather than one to go to ! 

M.E. z 



APPENDIX III 

A NOTE ON THE GEOLOGICAL RESULTS OF THE EXPEDITION 
By a. M. heron, D.Sc, F.G.S., Geological Survey of India. 

The area geologically examined is somewhat over 8,000 square 
miles, comprising the Tibetan portion of the Ai'un drainage area, 
with, in the West, the headwaters of the Bhotia Kosi and its tributaries. 

The circumstances of the Expedition were not favourable for 
work in any detail, but an endeavour was made to traverse and map 
as large an area as possible on a scale of J-inch to the mile, on skeleton 
maps very kindly furnished by Major Morshead and his surveyors as 
their plane-tabling proceeded ; my work must therefore be considered 
as a geological recoimaissance pure and simple. 

If I am accorded the privilege of accompanying the second 
Expedition, by which time Major Wheeler's map on a scale of 1-inch 
to the mile will be available, I hope to be able to make a detailed 
survey of the vicinity of Mount Everest and investigate the complicated 
inter-relationships of the metamorphosed sedimentaries and the 
associated gneisses and granites. 

My survey continues to the Westward Sir Henry Hayden's work 
during the Tibet Expedition in 1903-4. 

Geologically this area is divided into two broad divisions : (a) 
Tibetan and sedimentary, (b) Himalayan and crystalKne, a distinction 
which is clearly displayed in the topography resulting from the 
underlying geological structure, for to the North we have the somewhat 
tame and lumpy mountains of Tibet contrasting with the higher, 
steeper and more rugged Himalayas on the South. 

The Tibetan zone consists of an intensely folded succession of 
shales and limestones, with subordinate sandstone quartzites, the 
folds striking East-West and mainly lying over towards the South, 
showing that the movements which produced them came from the 
North. 

The uppermost rocks consist of the Kampa system of Hayden, 
a great thickness of limestones, which, where the rocks have escaped 

333 



GEOLOGICAL RESULTS 339 

alteration, yield an assemblage of fossils which determine their age 
as Cretaceous and Eocene. 

Below these is a monotonous succession of shales, practically 
unfossiliferous, with occasional quartzites and limestones representing 
the Upper and Middle Jurassic with at the base beds probably belonging 
to the Lias. 

These Jurassic shales are by far the most conspicuous formation 
in this part of Tibet, being repeated many times in complicated folds. 

The Cretaceous-Eocene limestones form comparatively narrow 
bands, occurring as compressed synclines caught up in the folded 
complex of Jurassic shales. 

Along the Southern border of the Tibetan zone, below the base of 
the Jurassic shales, is a great thickness (2,000 feet-3,000 feet) of 
thinly bedded limestones in which the fossils have been destroyed 
and the rocks themselves converted over considerable areas into 
crystalline limestones and calc-gneisses containing tremolite, epidote, 
tourmaline, etc., but still retaining their original bedded structure in 
the banding of the altered rock. 

The absence of determinable fossils makes it impossible to determine 
the age of these with certainty, but from their lithological character 
and position in the sequence, it is possible that they correspond with 
the Tso Lhamo limestone in Sikhim (Lias) and the Kioto limestone 
of the Zangskar range (Lower Jurassic and Upper Trias). 

The Himalayan and crystaUine zone is essentially composed of 
foliated and banded biotite-gneiss, usually garnetiferous, on which 
lie, at comparatively low angles and with a general Northerly dip, the 
above-mentioned calc-gneisses. 

These occur most abundantly to the North and West of Everest, 
in the Keprak, Rongbu, Hlalung and Rebu VaUeys. The group of 
high peaks to the North-west of Everest (overlooking the Khumbu 
Pass) is made up of these and intrusive schorl granite, and it would 
seem that the precipitous North-western face and spurs of Everest 
are the same. 

The Eastern and North-eastern valleys, Chongphu, Kharta and 
Kama, which are in general at a lower level than the North-western 
valleys, are excavated in the biotite-gneiss. On the North-eastern 
face of Everest fresh snow was too abundant at the time of my visit 
to make out what the rocks were. 

Associated with the limestones and calc-gneisses are quartzites 
and tourmaline-biotite schists which probably represent the lowest 
portions of the shales immediately overljdng the limestones. 
M.E. z* 



340 MOUNT EVEREST 

It is probable that the biotite-gneiss is an igneous rock intrusive 
in the calc-gneisses and schists, but this and many other puzzling 
features of the crystallines require more detailed study than I was able 
to give this year. 

Both biotite-gneiss and metamorphosed sedimentaries are crowded 
with dykes and sUls, of all dimensions, of schorl granite or pegmatite 
to such an extent that this granite is frequently the predominant 
rock. It is highly resistant to weathering and it is doubtless due to 
its presence in large amount that such comparatively soft rocks as 
the calc-gneisses take part in forming some of the highest summits. 

In the same way the scattered peaks of over 20,000 feet on the 
watershed between the Arun and the Tsangpo owe their prominence 
to their being groups of veins of a very similar granite, differing in 
that it contains biotite in place of schorl. Around these separate 
centres of intrusion are areoles of metamorphism in which the Jurassic 
shales have been converted into slates and phyllites. 

Economically the area traversed by the Expedition is devoid of 
interest. Barring a Kttle copper staining on a few boulders on moraines 
no traces of ore were seen. 



APPENDIX IV 

THE SCIENTIFIC EQUIPMENT 
By a. R. HINKS, F.R.S., Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society. 

The most important scientific work of the first year's expedition 
should have been the study of the physiological effects of high altitude 
that Dr. Kellas had undertaken, with the support of Professor 
Haldane, F.R.S., and of the Oxygen Research Committee of the 
Department of Scientific and Industrial Research. In his work on 
Kamet in 1920, Dr. KeUas had tried, and provisionally decided against, 
the use of oxygen compressed in cylinders : but he laboured under the 
grave disadvantage that the light cylinders he hoped to obtain had 
been, after his departure for India, pronounced unsafe ; and the 
cylinders sent out were clearly too heavy for effective use in cHmbing. 
Dr. KeUas had therefore fallen back on the use of oxygen prepared 
from the reaction between water and oxylith in an apparatus which 
included a kind of gas mask. He was prepared also to make several 
difficult researches into the physiological processes of adaptation to 
low oxygen pressure ; and some delicate apparatus was prepared 
and sent out to him by the Oxygen Research Committee. Unhappily 
these interesting and important enquiries came to nought, for there 
was no one competent to carry them on after his lamented death at 
Kampa Dzong ; and the Expedition of 1922 was thereby deprived 
of much information that should have been at its disposal in studying 
the use of oxygen for the grand assault. 

The scientific equipment for which the Mount Everest Committee 
were directly responsible was not ambitious : the Survey of India 
were responsible for the whole of the survey and brought their own 
equipment, which is described elsewhere in this book. It was necessary 
to provide the climbing party only with aneroids, compasses, reserve 
field-glasses, thermometers and cameras, with subsidiary apparatus 
for checking the aneroids at the base camps, and heavier cameras 
for work at lower levels. 

The aneroids by Cary, Porter & Co. and by Short & Mason were 
341 



342 MOUNT EVEREST 

constnicted in pairs, to operate from 15,000 to 23,000, and 22,000 to 
30,000 feet respectirely. They seem to have performed well on the 
whole, and tests made at the National Physical Laboratory since their 
return show that they have changed very Uttle ; but it cannot be 
said that their performances were very efiectively controlled in the 
field, for until late in the season there were no trigonometrical heights 
arailable, and the climbers had little opportunity in their rather 
isolated circumstances of employing their aneroids to the best 
advantage, for purely diSerential work. Nor is there much to be 
said as yet on the value of the shortened form of George mercurial 
barometer, to come into action only at 15,000 feet (Gary, Porter & 
Go.)- These instruments will find effective use only in the second 
season, when the reference points of the trigonometrical survey will 
be available as fundamental data. 

The climbers carried " Magnapole " compasses with luminous 
points, and sometimes a Mark \'i±i prismatic ; these aU worked 
well. The simpler compass is the more convenient for use on snow 
when goggles must be worn. A luminous liquid compass (Short & 
Ma«on) was found very useful on long reconnaissance rides. 

Por the record of temperatures in camps Messrs. Xegretti & Zambra 
had made three small pairs of maximum and minimum thermometers 
in leather travelling cases. These suffered some casualties, by theft, 
or being accidentally left out in the sun ; and the pattern has been 
repeated for the second year's work. 

The heavier photographic equipment included an old and well- 
seasoned 7^ X 5 Hare Gamera, lent to the Expedition, but newly 
fitted by Messrs. DaUmeyer with a Stigmatic lens of 9 inches focal 
length, a negative telephoto lens of 4 inches focal length giving 
enlargement up to 6 times, and a set of Wratten filters. With this 
camera ^Mr. WoUaston secured some of the finest pictures taken on the 
Expedition. 

There were also two quarter-plate cameras for glass plates : a 
Sinclair Una camera fitted by Messrs. DaUmeyer with a Stigmatic 
lens of 5-3 inches focal length, and Adon telephoto lens ; and a second 
Sinclair camera lent by^Gaptain Noel. 

One or the other of these two was used by Mr. Mallory at many 
of the high camps, and both the Hare 7| X o'and the Sinclair quarter- 
plate went to the 22,500-foot camp at the Lhakpa La : doubtless 
the greatest height yet attained by so large a camera as the former. 
The principal difficulty with these cameras was unsteadiness in a 
heavy wind when the telephoto lens was in use : and the tripods 



i 



THE SCIEXnnC EQUIPirENT 343 

have been strengtliened and the lens supports stiffened before they 
go out again. 

The plates were of two kinds : Imperial Special Rapid and Fine 
Grain slow. The latter were generally preferred, and could hardly 
have been better. The Imperial Dry Plate Company, who generously 
made and presented these plates to the Expedition, deserve special 
thanks for their skill and for their generosity. 

The cameras which used films were a Panoram Kodak of 5 inches 
focal length, with films 12 x 4 inches ; a No. 1 Autograph Kodak, 
and two Vest Pocket Kodaks, all three fitted with Cooke lenses by 
Messrs. Taylor, Taylor & Hobson. The Panoram Kodak was used 
very successfully by Colonel Howard-Bury, and the splendid series of 
panoramas is the most useful, if not quite the most beautiful, set of 
photographs brought home. The smaller cameras were used by the 
cMmbing party with many good results. 

Finally it must be said that a large part of the best photographs 
were taken by Colonel Howard-Bury with his own 7x5 Kodak, 
and the results very generously placed at the disposal of the Committee. 

All the instruments were examined and tested at the Xational 
Physical Laboratory, and the thanks of the Committee are due to 
the Director and his stafi, who gave most valuable advice and 
assistance. 



APPENDIX V 

MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS COLLECTED BY THE 
EXPEDITION 

By a. F. E. WOLLASTON 

A.— LIST OF MAMMALS COLLECTED 

Stoat. Mustela temon 

Stoat. Mustela longstaffi 

Marmot. Marmota himalayana 

Hamster. Cricetulus alticola tihetanus, subsp. n. 

Vole. Phaiomys leucurus 

Vole. Phaiomys everesti 

Vole. Microtus {Alticola), sp. 

Pika. Ochotona roylei nepalensis 

Pika. OcJiotona wollastoni, sp. n. 

Pika. Ochotona curzonice 

B.— LIST OF BIRDS COLLECTED 

Central Asian blackbird. Turdus maxima 

Solitary thrush. Monticola solitarius 

White-breasted Asiatic dipper. Cinclus cashmirensis 

Indian stone-chat. Saxicola torquata indica 

Gould's desert chat. Saxicola montana 

Bush chat. Pratincola prjevalskii 

Indian redstart. Euticilla rufiventris 

Guldenstadt's Afghan redstart. Ruticilla grandis 

White-capped redstart. Chimarrhornis leucocephalus 

Hodgson's grandala. Qrandala coelicolor 

TickeU's willow-warbler. Phylloscopus affinis 

MandeUi's willow-warbler. Phylloscopus mandellii 

Smoky willow-warbler. Phylloscopus fulviventris 

Spotted bush-warbler. Lusciniola thoracica 

Prince Henry's laughing thrush. Trochalopterum henrici 

344 



MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS 345 

Eastern alpine accentor. Accentor rufiliatus 

Red-breasted accentor. Accentor rubeculoides 

Rufous-breasted accentor. Accentor stropJiiatus 

Brown accentor. Accentor fulvescens 

Sikkim black tit. Par us beavani 

Wren. Troglodytes, sp. 

Hodgson's pied wagtail. Motacilla hodgsoni 

White-faced wagtail. Motacilla leucopsis 

YeHow-headed wagtail. Motacilla citreola. 

Blyth's pipit. Anthus citreola 

Indian tree-pipit. Anthus maculatus 

Hodgson's pipit. Anthus rosaceus 

Grey-backed shrike. Lanius tephronotus 

Slaty-blue flycatcher. Cyornis leucomelanurus 

Himalayan greenfinch. Hypacanthis spinoides 

Tree-sparrow. Passer montanus 

Cinnamon tree-sparrow. Passer cinnamomeus 

Blanford's enow-finch. Montifringilla blanfordi 

Adams' snow-finch. Montifringilla adamsi. 

Hodgson's ground-finch. Fringilauda nemoricola 

Brandt's ground-Unnet. Leucosticte brandti. 

Walton's twite. Linota rufostrigata 

Red-breasted rose-finch. Pyrrhospiza punicea 

Scarlet rose-finch. Carpodacus erythrinus 

Hodgson's rose-fimch. Carpodacus pulcherrimus 

Severtzoff's rose-finch. Carpodacus severtzoi 

Prejewalk's rose-finch. Carpodacus rubicilloides 

Red-headed bullfinch. Pyrrhula erythrocephala 

Godlevski's meadow bunting. Emberiza godlevshii 

Elwes' shore-lark. Otocorys elwesi 

Long-billed calandra lark. Melanocorpha maxima 

Tibetan skylark. Alauda inopinata 

Short-toed lark. Calandrella brachydactyla 

Brook's short-toed lark. Calandrella acutirostris tibitana 

Chough. Pyrrhocorax graculus 

Brown groimd-chough. Podoces humilis 

Common hoopoe. Upupa epops 

Pied crested cuckoo. Coccystes jacdbinus 

Eastern little owl. Athene bactriana 

White-backed dove. Columba leuconota 

Snow partridge. Lerwa lerwa 



346 



MOUNT EVEREST 



Temminck's stint. Tringa temmincM 
Redshank. Totanus calidris 
Dusky redshank. Totanvs fuscus 
Greater sand plover. Acegialitis mongola 
Common tern. Sterna fluviatilis 



In addition to the above 
specimens of them were not 

Wall-creeper 
House martin 
Sand martin 
Rock martin 
Alpine chough 



Black crow 

Raven 

Swift 

Siberian swift 

Cuckoo 

Himalayan vulture 

Lammergeier 

Sea eagle 

PaUas' sea eagle 

Black-eared kite 

Barheaded goose 



the following birds were identified, but 
obtained : — 

Ruddy sheldrake 

Garganey 

Wigeon 

Pochard 

Gadwall 

Hill rock-dove 

Chinese turtle dove 

Tibetan partridge 

Tibetan snow partridge 

Blood pheasant 

Black-necked crane 

White stork 

Ibis-bill 

Painted snipe 

Pin-tailed snipe 

Brown-headed guU 



C— LIST OF PLANTS COLLECTED BETWEEN JUNE AND 
SEPTEMBER, 1921, 12,000-20,400 ft. 



Clematis orientaUs, L. 
Ranunculus pulcheUus, C. A. 

Mey., var. sericeus, Hk. f . & T. 
Ranunculus pulchellus, C. A. 

Mey. 
Anemone obtusUoba, Don 
Anemone polyanthes, Don 
Anemone rivularis. Ham. 
Geranium Grevilleanum, WaU. 
Caltha Bcaposa, Hk. f. & T. 
Delphinium Brunonianum, Royle 
Aconitum gymnandrum, Max. 



Aconitum orochryseum, Stapf, sp. 

nov. 
Delphinium Pylzowii, Maxim. 
Halenia eUiptica, Don 
Delphinium grandiflorum, L. 
Hypecoum leptocarpum, Hk. f. 

& T. 
Meconopsis horridula, Hk. f . & T. 
Meconopsis grandis, Prain ? 
Meconopsis, sp. 
Corydahs, sp. 
Corydalis juncea. Wall. 



MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS 



347 



Corydalis Moorcroftiana, Wall. 
Arabia tibetica, Hk. f. & T. 
Lepidium ruderale, L. 
Arenaria ciliolata, Edgew. 
Dilophia salsa, Hk. f. & T. 
Cardamine macrophylla, Willd. 
Arenaria Stracbeyi, Edgew. 
Silene Waltoni, F. N. Williams 
Snene Moorcroftiana, Wall. 
Arenaria musciformis, Wall. 
Arenaria melandrioides, Edgew. 
Polygonum islandicum, Hk. f. 
Geranium collinum, A. DO. 
Impatiens sulcatus. Wall. 
Thermopsis barbata, Royle 
Thermopsis lanceolata, R. Br. 
Sophora Moorcroftiana, Benth. 
Stracbeya tibetica, Benth. 
Astragalus etrictus, Grab. 
Oxytropis micropbylla, DC 
Gueldenstsedtia uniflora, Benth. 
Desmodium nutans. Wall. 
Potentilla coriandrifolia, Hk. f. 
PotentiUa multifida, L. 
Potentilla sericea, L. 
PotentOla micropbylla, Don 
Potentilla pedimcularis, Don 
Potentilla Grifathii, Hk. f. 
Spirsea arcuata, Hk. f. 
Saxifraga Lycbnitis, Hk. f. & T. 
Saxtfraga nutans, Hk. f. & T. 
Saxifraga aristulata, Hk. f. 
Saxifraga near S. saginoides, Hk. 

f. & T. 
Saxifraga flagellaris, WUld. 
Saxifraga Hirculus, L. 
Saxifraga Lycbnitis, Hk. f. & T. 
Saxifraga fimbriata. Wall. 
Saxifraga pilifera, Hk. f. & T. 
Saxifraga Gaveana, W. W. Sm. 
Saxifraga micropbylla, Royle 



Saxifraga pallida. Wall. 
Saxifraga umbellulata, Hk. f. & 

T. 
Parnassia ovata, Ledeb. 
Parnassia pusUla, Wall. 
Eutrema Prewalskii, Hk. f. & T. 
Sedum fastigiatum, Hk. f. & T. 
Sedum trifidum. Wall. 
Sedum crenulatum, Hk. f. & T. 
Sedum himalense, Don 
EpUobium palustre, L. 
Epilobium reticulatum, 0. B. 01. 
Pleurospermum Hookeri, 0. B. 01. 
Scabiosa Hookeri, 0. B. 01. 
Valeriana Hardwickii, Wall. 
Aster, sp. 

Aster heterocbsetus, 0. B. 01. 
Allardia glabra, Dene. 
Aster tibeticus, Hk. f. 
Oremanthodium Decaisnei, 0. B. 

01. 
Aster diplostepbioides, 0. B. 01. 
Erigeron, sp. 
Leontopodium fimbriUigerum, J. 

R. Drum. ? 
Leontopodium monocephalum, 

Edgew. 
Leontopodium Stracheyi, 0. B. 01. 
Anaphalis xylorhiza, Sch. Bip. 
Anaphalis cimeifolia. Hook. f. 
Tanacetum tibeticum, Hk. f. & T. 
Senecio arnicoides, Wall. var. 

frigida, Hk. f. 
Oremanthodium pinnatifidum, 

Benth. 
Ohrysanthemum Atkinsoni, 0. B. 

01. ? 
Artemisia Moorcroftiana, WaU. 
Sonchus sp. 

Senecio glomerata, Decne. 
Senecio (§ Ligularia) sp. 



348 



MOUNT EVEREST 



Senecio chrysanthemoides, DC. 
Tanacetum khartense, Diinii, sp. 

nov. 
Aster sp. 

Lactuca macrantha, C. B. CI. 
Senecio sorocephala, Hemsl. 

Saussurea gossypina, Wall. 

Saussurea tridactyla, Sch. Bip. 

Tanacetum gossypinum, Hk. f. & 
T. 

Saussurea wemerioides, Sch. Bip. 

Crepis glomerata, Hk. f. ? 

Saussurea graminifolia, Wall. 

Senecio arnicoides, Wall. 

Saussurea uniflora, Wall. 

Morina polyphyUa, Wall. 

Saussurea glandulifera, Sch. Bip. 

Lactuca Dubyaea, C. B. CI. 

Lactuca Lessertiana, C. B. CI. 

Cassiope fastigiata, D. Don 

Daphne retusa, Hemsl. 

Rhododendron lepidotum, WaU. 

Rhododendron setosum, Don 

Rhododendron near R. lepido- 
tum, Wall. 

Rhododendron campylocarpum, 
Hk. f. 

Rhododendron cinnabarinum, 
Hk. f. 

Rhododendron lanatum, Hk. f. 

Rhododendron arboreum, Sm. 

Rhododendron Thomsoni, Hk. f. 

Cyananthus incanus, Hk. f. & T. 

Glossocomia tenera, DC. 

Cyananthus pedunculatus, C. B. 
CI. 

Campanula modesta, Hk. f. & T. 

Campanula colorata, Wall. 

Campanula aristata, Wall. 

Androsace chamEejasme, Hort., 
var. coronata, Wall. 



Androsace villosa, L. var. 1 
Androsace strigiUosa, Franch. 
Primula miuutissima, Jacq. 
Primula Bviryana, Balf. f. sp. 

nov. 
Primula WoUastonii, BaK. f. sp. 

nov. 
Primula pusUla, Wall. 
Primula sikkimensis, Hook, mi- 
croform 
Primula capitata, Hook. 
Primula capitata, microform. 
Primula uniflora, Klatt 
Primula Dickieana, Watt. 
Primula obHqua, W. W. Sm. 
Primula indobella. Balf. f. 
Primula minutissima, Jacq. 
Primula glabra, Klatt 
Primula Younghusbandii, sp, 

nov. 
Primula tibetica. Watt. 
Primula denticulata, Sm. 
Primula sikkimensis. Hook. 
Primula nivalis, Pallas, var. ma- 

crocarpa. Pax. 
Gentiana amoena, C. B. CI. 
Grentiana ornata, WaU. 
Gtentiana sp. Probably new but 

the material is too imperfect 

to decide this. 
Gentiana Elwesii, C. B. CI. 
G«ntiana robusta, King 
Gentiana micantiformis, Burkill 
Gentiana nubigena, Edgew. 
Gentiana tubiflora, WaU., var. 

longiflora, TurrUl, var. nov. 
G«ntiana steUata, TurriU, sp. 

nov. 
G«ntiana teneUa, Fries 
Swertia cuneata, WaU. 
Arenaria Stracheyi, Edgew. 



MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS 



349 



Swertia Kingii, Hk. f. 
Swertia Younghusbandii, Burkill 
Swertia multicaulis, D. Don 
Nardostachys grandiflora, DC. 
Trigonotis rotundifolia, Benth. 
EritricMum densiflorum, Duthie 
Microula sikkimensis, Hemsl. 
Onosma Waddellii, Duthie 
Onosma Hookeri, C. B. CI. 
Verbascum Thapsus, L. 
Lancea tibetica, Hk. f. & T. 
Lagotis crassifolia, Prain 
Pedicularis trichoglossa, Hk. f. 
Pedicularis Elwesii, Hk. f. 
Pedicularis megalantha, Don, 

forma 
Pedicularis megalantha, Don, var. 

pauciflora, Prain 
Pedicularis Roylei, Maxim. 
Pedicularis siphonantha, Don 
Pedicularis cheUanthif olia, 

Schrank 
Pedicularis tubiflora, Fischer 
Pedicularis integrifolia, Hk. f. 
Pedicularis globifera, Hk. f. 
Incarvillea Younghusbandii, 

Sprague 
Escholtzia eriostachya, Benth. 
Nardostachys latamansi, DC. 
Dracocephalum breviflorum, Tur- 

rUl, sp. nov. 
Dracocephalum tanguticum, 

Maxim. 
Dracocephalum heterophyllum, 

Benth. 
Dracocephalum speciosum, Benth. 
Veronica lanuginosa, Benth. 
Nepeta discolor, Benth. 
Nepeta Thomsoni, Benth. 
Atriplex rosea, L. 



Polygonum vaccinifolium, Wall. 
Polygonum viviparum, L. 
Polygonum tortuosum, Don 
Polygonum affine, Don 
Polygonum amphibium, L. 
SteUera chamaejasme, L. 
Euphorbia Stracheyi, Boiss. 
Orchis cylindrostachys, Kranzl. 
Liparis sp. 

Groodyera fusca, Liudl. 
Dendrobium alpestre, Royle 
Pleione Hookeriana, S. Moore 
Orchis Chusna, Don 
Eioscoea purpurea, Sm. 
Iris nepalensis, Don 
Iris goniocarpa, Baker 
Iris tenuifolia, PaUas 
Lloydia tibetica. Baker 
Lloydia sp. 

FritiUaria Hookeri, Baker 
Fritillaria near F. Stracheyi, Hk. f . 
FritiUaria cirrhosa, Don 
Allium, sp. 

Allium WaUichii, Kunth 
Allium Govenianum, Wall. ? 
Allium cyaneum, Regel 
Larix Griffithii, Hk. f. 
Dryopteris Linneana, C. Chr. 
Dryopteris Filix-mas, var. ser- 

rato-dentata, C. Chr. 
Cryptogramma Brunoniana, Wall. 
Calophaca crassicaulis, Benth. 
Glaux maritima, L. 
Androsace sessUiflora, Turrill, sp. 

nov. 
Astragalus oreotrophes, W. W. 

Sm. 
Thamnolia vermioularis, Schser. 
Stereocaulon alpiaus, Laur. 
Thelochistes flavicans. Norm. 



350 MOUNT EVEREST 

Note. — ^The material of some of the numbers was insu£&cient for 
accurate deterimnation ; in a few cases the material necessary for 
comparison was on loan, and in the case of one or two genera, such 
as Aster, revision of the North Asian and Indian species wiU have 
to be undertaken before certain plants can be definitely named. The 
numbers in the list coming under these categories are named " sp." 

Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. 

March 7, 1922. 



INDEX 



Abdul Jalil, photographic assistant, 59, 

319 
Abnizzi, Duke of the, 2, 3, 5, 155 
Acchu, cook, 103, 133, 178 
Acclimatisation to high altitudes, 277, 

308, 341 
Alpine Club, 1, 7, 14^19, 305 
Altitude, effects on human frame, 5, 

102, 104-5, 137-8, 154-5, 199, 204, 

206-7, 253-4, 276, 307-8, 315, 341 ; 

on breathing, 200, 243-4, 277 ; on 

tinned fish, 50 
Ammo-chu, river, 39, 44, 291 
Aneroids, 341 

Ang Tenze, coolie, 113, 149-51, 166 
Ari, bungalow, 33 
Arun, river, 89, 104^5; gorges, 110, 

126, 221, 297, 298 ; see Bhong-chu 
Avalanches, 231, 267-9, 308-9 

Bailey, Major, 31, 314 

Bamtso, lake, 49 

Bell, Sir Charles, 16, 24, 166 

Bhompos, Buddhist sect, 39 

Bhong-chu, river, 64-5, 69-71, 89-90, 

93, 99, 100, 110, 159, 161, 295 ; upper 

valley, 320, 322 ; see Arun 
Bhotias, 24 
Bhotia ponies, 27 
Bhotia Kosi, river, 338 
Birds, 290-303, 312, 344-6 
Brahma Putra, river, 61 ; see Tsan-po 
Bridges, 69, 93-4, 103, 115, 123, 159-60, 

191 
Bruce, General, 1, 3, 13, 17, 154, 312 
Buchan, J., 19 
Buddhism and Buddhists, 25, 67-8, 

173 ; books, |41 ; [red cap sect, 173 ; 

yellow cap sect, 68, 173 ; regard for 

animal hfe, 59, 80, 166, 290; see 

Monasteries, prayer- wheels 



Bullock, G. H., 19, 26, 52 ; see Mallory 
Bullocks, 48, etc. ; see Transport 
Burrard, Sir S., 10-12 

Carpo-Ri, mountain, 227 ; ascended, 

117,229-35,268 
Chamlang, mountain, 140 
Chandra Nursery, 32 
Chang La (North Col) 142 ; first view 

of, 204 ; 207, 212, 220 ; way to, 

233-40, 246-8, 256 ; camp on, 

259-60 ; best route to, 273-4, 

311-12, 334-5 
Changtse, North peak of Everest, 142, 

213, 215, 233-4 
Chehnsford, Lord, 16 
Chheten Wangdi, interpreter, 26, 39, 

69, 91, 96, 112, 162, 179 
Chinese in Tibet, 38-9, 71-2, 173 ; in 

Nepal, 71 
Chitayn, coolie, 212 
Chobiik, monastery and bridge, 82, 95, 

190, 191, 312, 327 
Chodzong, village, 86 
Chog La, 106, 121, 129, 299-300 
Choksum, village, 324 
Chomiomo, mountain, 52, 54, 140, 166 
Chomolhari, mountain, 45, 48, 60, 64, 

167, 263 
Chomolonzo, mountain, 114, 116, 149- 

51 
Chomolungma (Mount Everest or 

Makalu), 13, 24, 107, 224 
Chomo-Uri (Mount Everest), 64 
Chorabsang, mountain, 77-8; (=Cho 

Rapsang, 331) 
Chortens, 40, 66, 174, 286, etc. 
Cho Uyo, mountain, 73, 76, 78, 101, 

207, 219, 330 
Choyling monastery, 194 
Chulungphu, village, 89, 104 



351 



352 



INDEX 



Chumbi vaUey, 25, 37-44, 170, 177-8 ; 
village, 38 ; fauna and flora, 291 

Chushar Nango, village, 60-61, 131, 
134, 295 

Chuphar, village and monastery, 327 

Chu-tronu, 123 

Collie, J. N., 17-18 

Compasses, 342 

Conway, Sir M., 4, 5 

Coolies, 23-5 ; behaviour, 47, 146, 156, 
213, 216, 222-3, etc. ; as carriers, 
92-4, 113, 122, 168, 284r-6 ; see 
Transport ; in mountaineering, 84, 
188, 195, 203-6, 212, 230, 251 fi., 
332 

Crampons, 207-8, 272 

Cups of tea, as measures of distance, 
108 

Curios, 67, 157 

Curzon, Lord, 1, 19 

Dak, village, 93 
Dalai Lama, the, 16, 173 
Darjeeling, 23-28, 179 
Dasno, coolie, 234 
Desiccation, 51 
Dochen, bungalow, 49, 168 
Dokcho, village, 321 
Donka monastery, 40-42 
Donkeys, 48, 64, 65, etc. See Transport 
Dorje, cook, 50 
Dorji Gompa, coolie, 202, 256 
Doto nunnery, 51 
Doya La, 88, 104, 336 
Dram, village, 325 
Drophung monastery, 323 
Dug pass, 50 
Dukpa, cook, 134, 188 
Dimge pokri, island, 127 
Dzakar {or Zakar) Chu, river, 93-6, 
159, 297, 333 

Eaton, J. E. C, 17 

Equipment, 20, 315, 341 

Everest, Mo\mt, 1-2, 183 ; position, 9, 
13 ; height, 10-12 ; names, 13, 64, 
225 ; seen from Khamba Dzong, 54, 
56, 183-4 ; from ShUing, 64, 186-88, 
217, 230, 263 ; from Rongbuk Valley, 
192, 263-4 ; from Kama Valley, 116, 
226 ; local ignorance of, 107, 112, 



116; structure, 192-4, 203, 215, 310; 
best season for ascent, 153, 248, 270 ; 
difficulties of, 154, 276, 308 ; plana 
for, in 1921, 250-52 

— — Committee, 16 ff. 

— — Expedition, origin of, 14-16 ; 
value of, 5 ; objects, 17-18 ; cost, 
19 ; equipment, 20, 315, 341 ; results 
179-80, 310-12, 338, 341. See 
Survey 

Everest, Sir G., 13 

Farrar, Captain J. P., 14, 17, 19, 315 
Finch, Captain G., 19, 313, 315 
" Finger," the, station, 335-6 
Foixrteen lakes, valley of the, 106, 121 ; 

fauna and flora, 299 
Fowkes, Sergeant, 28 
Freshfield, D. W., 1, 14-16, 18 
Fuel, 80, 105, 171, 211, 237, 247, 273, 

331 

Gadompa, village and bridge, 160-61 
Galinka, village and monastery, 40 
Gandenchofel monastery, 108, 131 
Gaiu'i Sankar, moimtain, 288, 326, 331 
Gautsa, bungalow, 44 
Gelupka { = Yellow Cap) sect, 173 
Geshe Rimpoche, Lama, 40 
Ghoom, 29 

Glaciers, ancient extent of, 128 ; 
characteristics, 194, 197, 218 ; 
atmosphere, 200, 243, 270 
Gnatong, village, 35-6, 178 
Gosainthan, mountain, 64, 101, 284, 

322-3 
Graham, Dr., 30-31 

Graphic, the, 19 

Gujjar Singh, surveyor, 319, 323-7 

Gurkhas in Tibet, 71, 95, 106 

Guru Rimpoche, saint, 173 

Gyachung Kang, mountain, 207, 219, 
330 

Gyalzen Kazi, interpreter, '26, 56, 133, 
137, 163, 177-8, 188, 190, 202, 323 

Gyangka-nangpa, house, 62, 184 

Gyanka range of mountains, 184 

Haldane, J. S., 341 

Halung, village, 86-7, 103, 240 ; vaUey, 
339 



INDEX 



353 



Hari Ram, explorer, 319, 324 

Harvest rents, 161, 174 

Hatarana, steamer, 24 

Hayden, Sir H., 338 

Hermits, 80, 83-4, 99 

Heron, Dr. A. M., 20, 26 ; expeditions 
from Tingri, 74, 77-85, 98, 120, 325 ; 
first expedition to Kharta, 86-95 ; 
162, 164, 179-80 ; in Upper Kharta 
Valley, 253 ; returns by Kama 
Valley, 146-163, 337, and Teesta 
Valley, 164, 337 ; note on geological 
results, 338-340 

Himalaya, 7-8, 11, 304 ff. ; H. and 
the Alps, 194 

Hinks, A. R., 17, 20, 315 ; notes on 
scientific equipment, 341-2 

Holdioh, Sir T., 15 

Hopaphema, landowner, 91-3, 104, 
108, 111-12, 157-8 

Hot springs. See Kambu, Tsamda 

Howard-Bury, Colonel C. K., 13, 15, 17, 
20, 343 ; author of the general 
narrative of the expedition, 23-180 ; 
expeditions from Tingri, 75-85 ; first 
expedition to Kharta, 86-95 ; 
expeditions from Kharta, 106-111 ; 
visits Kama Valley, 112 ff. ; ascent 
of 19,500 ft. ridge, 116; of Kama 
Changri, 136-7 ; of Lhakpa La, 
140-145, 257 ff. 

Hue, abb6, 293 

India Office, 16 

India, Government of, 16, 23 

— Survey of, 20, 26-7, 341 

Interpreters, 25, 47 ; discretion of, 108 

Isaacs, Mr., 39 

" Island," the, 209, 213, 219 



Kama Valley, 112-119, 146-52, 225-7, 

311, 339 ; faxma and flora, 300-01 
Kama Changri, moxmtain, 114, 136-7 
Kama-chu, river, 122-4 
Kambu hot springs, 40-43 ; valley, 

291 
Kanchenjunga, mountain, 9, 46, 117, 

135, 140, 185 
Kanchenjhow, mountain, 52, 54, 104, 

166 
Kang-chu, river, 325 
Kangchen and -chung passes, 326 
Kangdoshung glacier, 115-16 
Kangshung glacier, 149-51 
Karpo La, 147 
Karro Pumri, mountain, 326 
Kartse, mountain, 141 
KeUas, A. M., 14, 18, 26, 341 ; illness 

and death, 46-49, 52-54, 164, 321 
Khamba Dzong, fort and village, 13, 

24, 53-57, 96, 164 
Kharkung, village, 161 
Kharta, 24, 90 ; first visit to, 88-93 ; 

headquarters of the expedition, 

104-5, 110; survey of, 323, 327; 

valley formation, 339 ; fauna and 

flora, 299, 301-03 
Khartaphu, mountain, 330 
Khe or Khetam, village, 50-51 
Kheru, 51 
Khombu pass, 76, 78-9, 312, 339 

— vaUey, 150-51 
Kimonanga, village, 124 
Korabak, rock, 124 

Kuti ( = Nyenyam), village, 324 
Kyetrak, village and vaUey, 74-77, 327, 
331 

— glacier, 70, 77-79, 312 ; river, 79 
K5rishong, vOlage, 65, 102 



Jack, Colonel E. M., 17, 20, 315 
Jannu, mountain, 117, 135, 140 
Jelep La, 36, 37, 178, 290, 291 note 
Jetsun-Nga-Wang-Chhofel, saint, 109, 

325 
Jongpens, 174-5, 283, 324 
Jonsong, mountain, 47, 140 

Kabru, mountain, 26, 47, 168 
Kala-tso, lake, 51 
Kalimpong, village, 29-30 



Lachen, 56, 337 

Lalbir Singh Thapa, surveyor, 319, 322, 

327 
Lamna La, 81, 327 

Langkor, village and temple, 281, 323 
Langma La, 112-13, 130, 224 
Langra, rest-house, 37, 178 
Lapche, village and monastery, 287, 

325-6 
Lapche Kang, mountain, 115, 284-5, 

325 



354 



INDEX 



Lashar.. village, 161 
Lebong, races at, 27 
Leeches, 34^5, 123-4, 126, 300, 337 
Lhakpa La (Windy Gap), 138, 161, 
273-4- first visits to, 240-249, 
255-6 ; camp on, 140-44, 257-8, 261 
Lhasa, 16, 24, 173, 174 ; road to, 48-49 

Lhonak peaks, 52 

Lhotse, mountain (S. peak of Everest), 
116, 213 

Lingga, village, 57, 163-4 

Lingmatang, plain, 40, 44, 291 

Longstafi, Dr. T. G., 1, 5, 314 

Lmneh, village, 93-4, 159 

LTingchen La, 322 

Limgdo, vUlage, 110, 125 

Lunghi, 167 

Macdonald, David and famUy, 31, 38, 

177 
Makalu, mountain, 104, 116, 118-19, 

137, 186, 225-6, etc. ; glacier, 151 
Mallory, G. H. L., 19, 26, 313 ; recon- 
noitres N. approach to Everest, 74, 
181-220 ; ascends Ri-Bing (23,050 
ft.), 205-7, 264 ; moves to Kharta, 
102-106 ; reconnoitres E. approach 
to Everest, 117, 221-249 ; back to 
Kharta, 130; ascends Kama Changri, 
135-7 ; final assault and ascent of 
North Col, 131-145, 250-261 ; leaves 
Eiiarta, 153 ; views on weather 
conditions, 262-72 ; on the route up 
Everest, 273-79 
Mammals, 290-303, 312, 344, etc. 
Mani Walls, 40, 174, etc. 
Maps of Tibet, 62 
" Marigolds, Field of," 119, 152 
Matsang, village, 125 
Meade, C. F., 5, 17, 19 
Mendalongkyo, 129 
Mende, village, 57 
Menkhap-to and -me, villages, 322 
Menlung pass, 327 
" Metolikangmi," 141 
MUa Respa, saint, 287 
Monasteries, 99, 113, 173 See Donka, 
Gahnka, Ganden Qiliofel, Rongbuk, 
Shekar Chote, etc. 
Monsoon, 31, 48, 88, 91, 139, 216, 248, 
262 fi. See rainfall 



Morshead, Major H. T., 20, 25-27, 54, 
65, 75, 96 ; trip to Nyenyam, 97, 108, 
281-9, 323-5 ; at Kharta, 112 ; 
survey of Kharta VaUey, 131-2, 135 ; 
first ascent of Lhakpa La, 130, 230- 
49 ; ascends Kama Changri, 136-7 ; 
second ascent of Lhakpa La, 140- 
144, 253-8 ; map by, 312, 338 ; 
account of survey by, 319-28 
Mountain sickness, 207, 258, 323. See 

altitude 
Mountaineering, 2-4, 6-8, 305-6 
Mules, lent by Government, 27-8; 
breakdown of, 33-4 ; Tibetan, 32-33, 
48, etc. See Transport 

Nangba { = Khombu), pass, 77, 331 
Narsing, mountain, 26 
Nathu La, 37 

Nawang Lobsang, first Dalai Lama, 173 
Nepal, 13 

Nepalese coolies, 25, 122 ; invasion of 
Tibet, 71, 73 ; traders, 122, 127, 
324 ; herdsmen, 126 
Nezogu bridge, 100, 102 
Ngawangyonten, official, 94 
Nieves penitentes, 78 
NUa pass, 61, 184 
Noel, Major J. B. L., 14, 314 
Nomads, 51, 171 

North Col of Everest, 212, 215. See 
Chang La 

North cwm of Everest, 200, 203-4 

North peak. See Chang-tse 

North-East Arete, 215, 227, 235, 250- 
51, 259, 274-6, 310 

Norton, Major E. F., 313 

Nims and nunneries, 51, 80, 83, 166 

Nyenyam, 73, 97, 108, 283-4, 297, 324 

NyimaTendu, coohe, 113, 149-51, 234 

Oxygen for climbers, 154, 277, 307-8, 
315-16, 341 

Padamchen ( = Sedongchen), 33 

Padma Sambhava, saint, 173 

Pashok, 337 

Pawhunri moimtains, 46, 52, 54, 166 

Pedong, 31-2 

Pekhu plain, 322 

Peshoke, bimgalow, 29 

Pethang Bingmo, 116, 138 



INDEX 



355 



Pethangtse, mountain, 117, 147 
Phari, fort and village, 24, 35, 45-8, 

168; plain, 46, 292 
Pharuk, district, 323, 327 
Phema, viUage, 38 
Philadelphia Ledger, the, 19 
Photography, 68, 72-3, 91, 156, 216-17, 

314, 315, 342-3, etc. ; perils of, 

74-5 ; surveying by, 320, 329-30 
Phuri, village, 322 
Phuse La. See Pusi pass 
Pilgrims, 70, 99, 121 
Plants, 290-302, 312, 346-50, etc. 
P6-chu, river, 284-5, 297-8, 323-4 
Ponglet, view from, 188, 218, 263 
Ponies, 27, 34, 48, 87, 101, etc. See 

Transport 
Poo, coolie, 75, 113, 156, 178 
Popti La, 106, 126-7, 300 
Postal sirrangenients, 96-7, 131, 135 
Prayer wheels, 39-40, 53, 91, 98, 110, 

174, 289 
Primus stoves, 142-3, 154, 208, 315, 

331 
Pulahari, vUlage, 281 
Pulme, 94 

Pumori, mountain, 209 
Punagang monastery, 39 
Pusi pass, 77, 79, 289 ( = Phuse La, 

327, 330) 

Quiok, pass, 159 

Rabkar-chu, river and glacier, 115 

Ra-chu, river, 70, 330 

RainfaU, 29, 37, 56, 99, 105, 262 ff. 

Rawhng, Major, 13-14 

Reading, Lord, 23 

Rebu, viUage, 87, 103 ; valley, 339 

Rhenock, 32 

Ri-Ring, mountain, ascended, 205-6, 

270, 311 
Richengong, village, 38, 291 
Ronaldshay, Lord, 23, 179 
Rongbuk, glacier, 84 ; central and W. 

branches explored, 194^220 ; E. 

branch, 142, 216-18, 238-40, 247-9, 

273-4, 334^6; stream from, 199, 

218 

— monastery, 83 

— vaUey, 82, 191, 339 



Rongkong, village, 63 

Rongli, bungalow, 32, 178 

Rongme, viUage, 63 

Rongshar, valley, 77, 288-9, 298, 

325-6 
Ruddamlamtso, lake, 121, 128 
Rugby, Tibetan boys at, 172 
Ryder, Colonel C. H. D., 13, 319 

Sakeding, village, 121-22, 127-8 
Samchang, pass, 106, 121, 129 
Sand dunes, 58, 63-4, 295 
Sandakphu, 12, 13 
Sanglu, coolie, 254, 256-7 
Sedongchen, village, 33-4 
Senchal, 29 
Serpo-La, 164, 337 
Shao La, 112, 118, 153 
Sharto, village, 75, 330 
Shassi (=New Yatung), 38 
Shatog, village, 162 
Shekar-Chote, monastery, 67-8, 94 
Shekar Dzong, fort and village, 45, 

66-7, 96, 295 
Sherpa Bhotias, coolies, 24, 188, 224, 

252 
Shidag, nunnery, 51 
Shigatse, 51, 55, 174 
ShUing, 161, 188. See Everest, Moimt 
Shung-chu, river, 79 
Sliui'imTso, lake, 114 
Sikkim, survey of, 27, 320-21, 327; 

jotirney through, 29-36 ; flora of, 

ibid 
Siniolchum, mountain, 46 
Sipri mountains, 99 
Skis, 158 
Snow, 248, 254, 264-8 ; temperature 

of, 270; powdery, 171, 231, 243, 

256 ; powdery snow and wind, 139, 

142, 144, 159, 167-8, 259-60, 271, 

etc. 
Snow-blindness, 103, 167, 171 
SnowfaU, 37, 171 
Snow line, 56 

Snow men, the abominable, 141 
Snow shoes, 137, 211-14, 232, 243, 254, 

265, 270 
Somers Cocks, E. L., 16 
SomerveU, H. T., 312, 313 
Strutt, Colonel E. L., 313 



356 



INDEX 



Sim's rays, 270, 308 

Survey work of expedition, 179, 312. 

See Heron, Morshead, Wheeler 
Suteo plain, 99, 321-22 

Takda, cantonment, 29 

Tamba Sanye, saint, 281, 323 

Tameness of animals, 59-60, 76-77, 80, 
83, 88, 94, 131 

Tang La, 48, 167, 323 

Tang-piin-sum, plain, 48 

Tangsham, 114, 117, 152 

Targyeling, village, 324 

Tasang, village, 79, 289, 327 

Tashi Dzom, 95 

TasliUumpo monastery, 51, 173 

Tashishong, 325 

Tatsang, nunnery, 52, 165-6 

Teesta VaUey, 27, 29-30, 164, 337 

Temperature, 269-70, 308, 342 

Tents, airlessness of, 143, 154, 258 

Thermometers, 342 

Thrashing, 164 

Thung-La, 282 ; famia and flora, 297 

Tibet, 13, 36, 170 BE. ; geology of, 338 ; 
Govermnent, 173-4 ; helps the ex- 
pedition, 16, 24, 45, etc. 

Tibetans, 170 ff. 

Tibetan beer, 57, 125, 156 ; bread, 125; 
burial, 74, 133 ; clunate, 49, 176 ; 
coinage and currency, 47, 59, 123 ; 
cooUes, 223-4 ; houses, 38, 89, 321 ; 
marriage, 74 ; meals, 48, 59, 62, 67, 
101, 108, etc. ; mules, 177-9 ; orna- 
ments, 73, 101, 107 ; ponies, 27, 55, 
101, 176 ; supei-stitions, 66, 72, 109, 
122, 141, 174, 282 ; tea, 41, etc. 

Times, newspaper, 19, 156 

Tingri, 70-75, 95-101 ; plain of, 70 ; 
its fauna and flora, 96, 295-7 ; origin 
of name, 282, 323 
Tinki, fort and village, 58, 162 ; birds 
of, 294 ; pass, 60, 162, 321 ; flowers 
of, 295 
Trangso Chmnbab, rest-house, 65 
Transport, 27-8, 34r-5, 45, 48, 60, 65, 
69,86,92,158-9,165,173,284. See 
Coolies, Mules, Yalia 
Trintang, village, 326 
Tropde, village, 326 



Tsakor, village, 70 

Tsamda, hot springs, 99, 321 

Tsampa, 172-3, 222, 337 

Tsang, province, 319 

Tsang-po, river, 319-20 

Tsering, five peaks, 326 

Tsogo, 65, 159 

Tsomotretimg, lake, 61 

Tseng Kapa, monk, 173 

Tulsi Dass, gardener, 32 

Tulung, village, 323 

Tuna, rest-house, 48 

Tiunibaz Khan, sxirveyor, 319, 321 

Wakefield, Dr. A. W., 313 

Waugh, Su- A., 10, 12, 13 

Weather. See Monsoon, Rainfall, 
Wind 

West cwm of Everest, 208-9, 212, 214 

^A^leele^, Major, E. O., 20, 26, 52, 164, 
252, 320 ; expedition to Kyetrak, 
74, 77-81, 98, 330-33 ; to Rongbuk 
Valley, 102, 333-36 ; discovers E. 
Rongbuk glacier, 217, 240, 247-8, 
334 ; arrives at Kharta, 249 ; to 
Lhakpa La, 140-44, 257 : to Chang 
La, 144^5, 258-61 ; returns by Kama 
VaUey, 146-153, 337, and Teesta 
Valley, 164, 337 ; map by, 312, 328, 
338 ; aceoimt of photograpliic sur- 
vey by, 329-337 

Wind, 50, 72, 75, 147-8, 171, 178, 265, 

308, 342. ,Sce Snow 
WoUaston, A. F. R., 20, 26 ; returns 
with Raebittn to Sikkim, 56 ; rejoins 
at Tingri, 74, 75, 96 ; trip to 
Nyenyam, 97, 108, 323-25 ; de- 
scribed by Mm, 281-89 ; at Kliarta, 
249; to Lhakpa La, 140 fi., 257-8 ; 
returns by Kama Valley, 146-153, 
165, 342 ; natural liistory notes by, 
290-303, 344-350 ; collections, 312 

Yaks, 61, 81, 161, 171, 286, 294, etc. 
Yara, river, 56-7, 61-3, 101-2 
Yatung, 38-9, 177 
Younghusband, Su- F., 1, 15-17, 19, 20 

Zachar-chu. See Dzakar-chu 
Zambu, village, 81 



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